Short Story 51

1. Date [standardized human time]: July 12, 2136

There were two known instances of a predatory species achieving sentience in the galaxy.

The Arxur were the first to be discovered, and, as an anomaly, sparked the Federation’s curiosity. By previous hypotheses on intelligence, their existence was impossible. Conventional wisdom stated that cooperation led to higher thinking, which in turn, led to the formation of technological societies. A predator’s natural instinct for aggression should have limited their evolution.

But it turned out that there was another motivator for technological progress; war. The Arxur derived pleasure from killing each other, and in doing so, managed to claw their way to an industrial stage. Their warfare was so deadly that we feared they would become extinct before we could study them.

The Federation saw their cruelty, but in our naivety, we thought we could change them. If we uplifted them, there would be no logical reason for their destructive ways to persist. Thus, we made our worst mistake: we decided to intervene.

It was out of our kindness that we unleashed the galaxy’s worst monsters. We gave genocidal maniacs the means to escape their planet, and all but invited them to our doorstep. The Federation was an easy target to them, and they set out to claim our territories for themselves. They torched worlds, enslaved millions, and bred our children as delicacies. Our pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears; predators had no sense of compassion to appeal to, after all.

The Federation rallied together to fend them off, and began the ceaseless war for our survival. From that point onward, it was agreed that no predatory species could be allowed to reach the stars. Their kind were too great of a threat to the civilized universe.

Little known to the public, scientists discovered a second predatory sapient centuries ago. Much like the Arxur, they slaughtered and committed atrocities against their own; it was visible from their broadcasts. The Federation voted to exterminate them, before it was too late.

But while we spent decades drafting termination plans, hundreds of nuclear explosions were detected across the planet. Our strategists concluded, with a grim sense of relief, that they had wiped themselves out. The species was forgotten, mentioned only as an asterisk to the Arxur’s unique predator status.

Yet now, my advisors were digging every record of these predators off of the internet. There was a vessel inbound for our world, with a subspace trail pointing back to the planet Earth.

“Governor Tarva.” My military advisor, Kam, was growing more impatient by the minute. It was obvious that he wanted to be cleared for action. “Please, I beg you. We must try to shoot them down.”

“Are you certain we cannot evacuate the planet?” I asked.

Kam sighed. “You know the answer, ma’am. They were within orbital range by the time we detected them. It’s already too late.”

I grimaced. Every FTL relay was broadcasting a planetary distress signal, from the moment we identified the human ship. It was in vain, of course; it would take hours for our Federation allies to reach us. By the time they arrived, our world would be reduced to rubble. At least someone would investigate our death, and hopefully, put the pieces together.

Was there any way to stop the coming onslaught? Was enslavement preferable to death? It was doubtful, but I didn’t see another way to bargain for my race’s survival. There was nothing else to be done.

To put it simply, we couldn’t divert resources to another army of predators. Our people didn’t have the manpower or the spirit. Local forces were depleted from a recent Arxur incursion, which was thwarted by the slimmest of margins. The humans caught us at a time of maximum vulnerability; there was no chance to fight or flee.

As difficult as it was to surrender our home, it was the only option.

“Yes… I know. Send out an emergency alert. Get the civilians to bomb shelters immediately.” I stared at my paws, cursing the day I chose to run for office. “Contact the incoming ship. I—I will personally offer our unconditional surrender.”

“Surrender? Without firing a single shot?!” the advisor growled.

“Perhaps they’ll be kinder than the Arxur. My hope is they’ll spare the children.” The video tapes of our children, lined up in front of the gray reptilians and shot by a mass grave, rolled in my mind. It was their way of taunting us. “At worst, we can buy some time. But if we fight, they’ll kill us all.”

I swiveled my chair away from the advisor, signaling that the discussion was over. An aide propped a camera in front of me, and with a swish of my tail, I showed that I was ready. Fear swelled in my throat as we hailed the vessel on all frequencies. Would these creatures even answer? Predators didn’t talk to prey, except to toy with them. Perhaps they would pick up, just to laugh at our desperation and weakness.

To my surprise, the inbound ship accepted our transmission. A brown-skinned being appeared on screen, sitting in some sort of pilot’s chair. The words of our surrender were almost to my lips when its forward-facing eyes locked with mine. To my horror, it bared its teeth in a vicious snarl. Its sharp, hungry stare halted my thought process, sending my instincts into a primal cascade.

This thing was feral! The hostility was unmistakable in its expression. It uttered a few words in a guttural dialect, which I assumed was an announcement of our impending doom.

The translator tingled by my ear, pressing the meaning into my mind. I took a shaky breath, certain the machine was wrong.

Hello. We come in peace, on behalf of the human race.

I stared at it, lost for words. “Peace? What?”

The translator spit out my question in the guttural language.

The predator closed its maw, tilting its head. “Did that translate wrong? You know, peace? Friendship?”

“Yes…I know what peace means,” I stammered. “Why would you want that?”

“Why would you not?” It seemed almost taken aback. “My people have looked to the stars for a long time and wondered if there was anyone else out there. I’m happy to have an answer, and to know we’re not alone.”

“You speak of peace, but you can’t keep the snarl off your face, predator!” Kam interjected.

“What? I don’t…” it trailed off, as though something occurred to it. “You mean the ‘smile’, don’t you? I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you, really.”

“Smile? What does that word mean?” I asked hesitantly.

“Er, it’s how humans show happiness and good will. Our lips curve up and...” It rubbed its forehead with a soft appendage. “Can we start over? I’m Noah. We’re here on a mission of peaceful exploration.”

Noah really expected us to believe that flashing teeth was meant as a friendly gesture?! No, this had to be some sort of twisted game. Predators didn’t do “peaceful exploration.” They trampled everything in their path and then burned it for good measure.

At least it wasn’t killing us immediately. What choice did I have but to play along?

So I gazed into those animal eyes, and tried to keep my voice steady. “I’m Governor Tarva. Welcome to Venlil Prime.”

“Thanks,” the human said. “I must admit, we were quite surprised to receive your transmission.”

“Y-you were? Why did you come here, if you didn’t detect us?”

“We’re from a planet called Earth, rich in water and oxygen. One of science’s nagging questions has been the origin of life. Our mission was to examine worlds similar to our own, and yours was the perfect candidate.”

“You suspected we had the conditions for life, then.”

“Well, yes, but every reasonable scientist back home thought our ‘first contact’ would be a primitive lifeform. Finding a single-celled organism in your oceans would’ve been a major victory.”

“Why would you care?”

“Um, we were starting to think we were the only instance of life arising. But now, finding a full-fledged, technological civilization; it’s wondrous. One that not only spotted us, but seems to understand what we are too.”

“You keep using the first person, plural. Who is we?”

“Of course, where are my manners?” Noah pivoted the camera to the side, revealing another human sitting at a console. “This is Sara, my co-pilot. She’s logging all of this for our records.”

“That’s right,” she agreed. “I’m not much of a talker. But Noah runs his mouth enough for both of us, anyways.”

The captain’s eyebrows shot up. “I do not!”

For a brief moment, watching their playful banter, I saw a kindred intelligence in them. My logical brain kicked in a second later, and the illusion dissolved with a cold certainty. Those predators aren’t searching for life for ‘science’, I chided myself. They’re looking for prey. It’s an interstellar hunting expedition.

This was the humans’ first realization that other intelligent life existed. All these measured words were a way of testing the waters, searching for any signs of weakness. We couldn’t clue them in to the fact that they were different. Perhaps if we kept it together, with minimal indications of empathy or fear, they would leave of their own accord.

Despite my misgivings, our best bet might be to treat this like an ordinary first contact situation.

“What would you say to seeing Venlil Prime firsthand? As esteemed guests of the Republic, of course.”

Noah’s eyes sparkled. “It would be an honor.”

*************************************************************

2. Memory transcription subject: Governor Tarva of the Venlil Republic

Date [standardized human time]: July 12, 2136

A shiver crept down my spine, and it wasn’t only because of the frosty air. The thought of standing in close proximity to a predator made my skin crawl, but it was too late to turn back now. All I could do was watch, with mute horror, as the human ship powered down, and a landing ramp unfurled. The primates marched onto Venlil soil, and I suppressed a whimper. This felt like a nightmare I would wake up from at any moment.

Noah and Sara marveled at their surroundings with wide-eyed fascination. Their gaze lingered on the intricate mansion behind them, then shifted to the city silhouette in the distance. The way they physically rotated their head to look around was uncanny. The menacing eyes of a predator didn’t quite offer the peripheral vision we enjoyed, that much was clear.

There was no way they were appreciating the beauty of our architecture. An ominous thought crept into my mind; were they only landing to scout an invasion?

Noah’s eyes landed on our diplomatic envoy, and he stalked toward us without further hesitation. There were a mere three individuals present: me, Kam, and my diplomatic advisor, Cheln. I knew it was a pitiful showing, but it had been next to impossible to persuade anyone to tag along.

“Listen,” I hissed. “We need to act normally. No fear, and no emotion.”

Kam flicked his ears in disgust. “I can’t believe you invited them here.”

“We are buying time for the Federation to arrive.”

“But how can you even look at them? You want to speak to those…creatures, for hours?”

“Of course not. But the other option is another war with predators, and we see how well that’s worked out with the Arxur. If there is a slight chance to avoid bloodshed, I will take it. Happily.”

“We should’ve blasted that ship out of the sky, while we had the chance. If you expect me to welcome these humans with open arms, that’s not going to happen.”

“You are not to antagonize them. Are we clear?” I growled.

Kam huffed, and I feared that was an answer of itself. There was no time to persuade him though, as the two humans had closed within earshot. I prayed that the advisor would come to his senses, and keep his thoughts to himself. We needed to put our best foot forward, if we wanted to get rid of the beasts peacefully.

Keeping up the appearance of strength was important, if only to discourage the humans from decimating our home. Trying to rile them up was a different story; that was nigh suicidal. Predators thrived on the assertion of dominance, so I doubted they’d turn down a blatant challenge.

“Governor Tarva.” Noah stopped a few paces away from our group, and flashed his teeth. “It’s lovely to meet you in person.”

My heart pounded, fear coursing through my veins like a dreadful cocktail. There was not a worse visual cue in the galaxy than flaunting one’s fangs. The threat it communicated felt much more tangible in person. I swayed on my feet, trying to fight off the light-headedness.

A thud sounded beside me, which I realized was Cheln hitting the pavement. My diplomatic advisor fainting was not a good look, I knew that. Even Kam had his ears pressed against his head, earlier bluster forgotten.

Wonderful, I thought. So much for behaving normally.

Noah’s eyes stretched wide, and his mistake seemed to dawn on him. He quickly covered his mouth with a hand.

“Um, sorry,” the predator captain muttered. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Are they ok?”

There was no way to salvage the optics of this one; the humans definitely realized we were afraid of them at this point. I don’t think my plan could have collapsed in a more disastrous manner. The initial idea of surrendering crept back into my mind. Whatever their ulterior motives were, there was nothing to deter them from taking what they pleased.

The strange thing was, Noah seemed more distraught than amused. This species was slower to pounce on weakness than the Arxur. Perhaps there was still a chance to salvage the meeting, or explain away the behavior?

I flicked my ears, trying to calm myself. “Yes, he’ll be fine. This is just—a bit overwhelming.”

“Aliens landing on your planet. That must come as a terrible shock.” Sara exhaled heavily, before scribbling something on her notepad. “You’re handling this quite well, all things considered.”

“I can’t imagine what this would be like without your translator,” Noah said. “Please, forgive us. We’re new to this whole first contact business.”

Kam knelt by Cheln’s side, trying to rouse him. Given that the nurturing trait stemmed from compassion, that wasn’t the sort of behavior to exhibit in front of predators either. I had to nip this conduct in the bud, or else the primates would think it was commonplace. That answered what I should do, but how could I leave a man to die in the cold? How could I chastise my military advisor for basic empathy? That level of cruelty was beyond my sensibilities.

Noah stooped beside the fallen diplomat, and I braced myself for the worst. Predators placed no value on sentient life, not even their own; the Arxur taught us that much. It was obvious the human thought we should abandon Cheln, rather than allow weakness to tarnish the gene pool.

“How can I help?” were the only words that came out of his mouth.

I gaped at the human in disbelief, certain I had misheard. Where were the derisive comments, making light of Cheln’s condition?

“You’ve helped enough,” Kam spat.

Noah lowered his head. “I’m sorry. It was an accident.”

“It’s alright,” I jumped in, before a quarrel could break out. “I apologize for my advisor’s behavior. He’s a bit…on edge.”

“I understand,” the male human said, with a despondent sigh. “I fear I’ve ruined this whole thing.”

“Noah meant no harm.” Sara patted her companion on the back reassuringly. “Seeing an alien culture firsthand…it’s the opportunity of a lifetime. You have no idea how excited we are. Clearly, that wasn’t expressed in the best way.”

The humans’ behavior was growing more baffling by the minute. Everything in the Federation’s database suggested this was a base, violent species. I thought they wouldn’t be able to turn their weapons against us fast enough. While their visual cues aligned with that assumption, their temperament seemed otherwise mellow.

Why maintain this ruse? If they were probing for weakness, as I hypothesized, they had already seen enough to arrive at a conclusion on that front. I was beginning to think I didn’t understand their intentions at all.

Perhaps these predators were capable of higher brain functions than we gave them credit for.

“Can you help us carry Cheln inside?” I took a deep breath, waiting for my translator to catch up. “We’ll give you a tour after that.”

The humans nodded, and positioned themselves to shoulder the brunt of the weight. A faint hope stirred in my chest. They were in no rush to finish us off! That meant we had time to wait for the cavalry after all.

I knew the Federation’s response would be harsh, when they found predators traipsing about the Venlil homeworld. Their actions would be along the lines of Kam’s suggestions: shoot first, ask questions later. The only reason this particular species hadn’t been wiped out, was we believed them to be extinct already. But the plans to obliterate Earth were drafted centuries ago. Eradicating humanity, in one fell swoop, might still be possible.

We only needed to stall the landing party a little longer. What would happen to Noah and Sara next…well, an attempt would be made to capture them for scientific study. If the task proved too difficult, a special ops team would be sent to dispatch them.

A strange guilt tore through my stomach, at the thought of the humans tied up in a lab. It was a misguided sense of empathy, but...

They are predators! They survive by killing species lower on the totem pole. They literally eat flesh, I scolded myself. These humans slaughter each other, all the time, anyways.

“Thanks for your hospitality, Governor.” Sara cleared her throat, locking eyes with me. “I can tell our species will be great friends, one day.”

The mere sight of these creatures disgusted me, but what if we were wrong about them? Wasn’t my intention to avoid bloodshed?

“Yes…friends.” I flicked my ears in agreement, and tried to bury my conscience. “I hope we will be.”

******************************************************************
3. Memory transcription subject: Governor Tarva of the Venlil Republic

Date [standardized human time]: July 12, 2136

The tour of the governor’s mansion started off without incident, and my nerves began to settle down. The humans tailed behind Kam and I, with questions pertaining to every subject under the sun. Culture, history, politics: they couldn’t absorb information fast enough. Had any other species arrived at our doorstep, with such childlike curiosity, their enthusiasm would be lauded.

Hell, if you didn’t look at the humans, you could almost forget they were predators.

My brain switched into autopilot mode, as I steered our group to the next stop: my office. However, the second I opened the door, I realized I had made a dreadful mistake. In this morning’s panic, I had left a TV on. The news was cycling through footage of bomb shelters across the planet. Government advisories played on loop in the background. They were speaking rather candidly about the humans’ foray, and the likelihood of mass casualties.

I scrambled to turn it off, but it was too late. The humans wandered over to the screen, staring in silence. They hadn’t been this quiet since we started the tour. Seeing masses of people, huddled together, crying, must have stirred something in them.

“I was wondering why there were so few staff here. No reporters either,” Noah said finally. “They’ve all been evacuated, haven’t they?”

I cast my gaze downward. “Yes.”

“You thought we were here to attack you.” There was a flash of something in his brown eyes, and he pressed a hand to his forehead. “My God…Sara, you see how they look at us. I think they still believe that.”

“Is that true, Tarva?” Sara asked. “What do you think is our purpose?”

Panic fluttered in my chest. There was no way to formulate a convincing reply. I took a few steps back, eyeing the humans warily. To deny the accusation would be to discount their intelligence; they would see right through any further deception. Silence was a way of confirming their suspicions, without having to vocalize our terror.

Kam, however, was eager to supply the answer. “To kill us. And to have a grand old time dragging it out.”

“No, no, no! That is not the case at all,” Noah hissed. “We mean you no harm. Look, if you want us to leave, we will.”

Sara raised her hands slowly. “We never wanted to cause fear, or disrupt your lives. We just wanted to meet other people…other people like us…”

“There are no people like you,” Kam growled.

“Really?” She pointed to a 3D photo on my desk, a hard glint in her eyes. “What about them?”

The picture in question was of myself, at a conference with dozens of Federation leaders. It was obvious, to any intelligent observer, that those diverse lifeforms were not of Venlil origin. What were the humans supposed to think? Seeing us comfortable with other aliens, they had to be wondering why they were so feared. I cursed myself for such a blatant oversight.

“You’re right.” I managed to speak, though my voice was hardly more than a whisper. “They’re not from this world. Like you.”

Noah cleared his throat. “How many intelligent species are there…that you know of? How did you find each other?”

I hesitated. If the humans intended to purge the galaxy, news of the Federation’s existence would give them a starting point. It might also tip them off to the coming rescue party, and cause them to accelerate invasion plans. But by the same token, they would discover it anyways. At least this way, we could gauge their reaction.

“Hundreds. Most of us are members of the Galactic Federation. It’s a central governing body of sorts.”

“Why do we bother you then? You’re used to aliens.” Sara’s eyes narrowed to unnerving slits. “Do we resemble something from your past?”

A growl rumbled in Kam’s throat. “You’re a predator. A sentient predator.”

Wonderful. Could this conversation have gone any worse? In his hatred, the military advisor had just told the humans the actual reason they were different. It stood to reason that if they were predators…by default, we were the opposite. If their instincts weren’t awakened before, they had to be salivating now.

There was a long silence, and I could almost see the gears turning in Sara’s mind. Surprise flashed on her face, as though she didn’t understand why their nature mattered. Was this the first time the notion crossed her mind? It was tough to believe the humans were that oblivious to the food-chain dynamics.

“Is that uncommon?” she asked.

“Very.”

“How many are there?”

“You’re the second.”

Noah turned his piercing gaze toward Kam. “Who is the first?”

Silence blanketed the room with a heavy grip. Nobody wanted to explain what happened with the Arxur; not even Kam would offer pointed comments on that subject. We didn’t need to give the humans any ideas. The captain seemed to notice our expressions darken, and the lines on his own face hardened.

“Who is the first?” he repeated.

What words could provide an adequate description of evil incarnate? My eyes swelled with water as memories resurfaced. My father, captured alive on the warfront, shipped back piece by piece. The day the Arxur launched a gas attack against my daughter’s school and left her braindead. The slave pens, the irradiated worlds, the Venlil kept as cattle…

I buried my head in my paws, trying to hide the tears. Showing such weakness in front of the humans was the worst thing I could do. This species, for all its refined words, was cut from the same cloth as our oppressors. If they saw the extent of our pain, it would be weaponized down the road.

Noah’s eyes widened, and my heart sank in my chest. The observant visitor had noticed my emotional lapse, and seemed to be debating his next action. After a moment’s thought, he shuffled closer to me. Every instinct screamed at me to back away, but my paws refused to budge.

As the predator reached out with a meaty paw, I waited for him to strike me. My mind was braced for taunting, torture, or whatever else may come.

Instead, he gently placed an appendage on my shoulder. “Whatever they did, we’re not like that. We’re not going to hurt you, okay?”

Something seemed to snap in my soul, like a series of cracks spreading through a dam. Raw emotion poured through my psyche, and I broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. Noah pulled me closer to him, stroking my head in a soothing manner. His embrace was warm, soft, and delicate, yet I could feel the strength in his arms. There was a silent promise of safety in his grasp. He released me after a few seconds, and wiped a tear off of my face.

Kam’s jaw looked like it was about to fall off. It was rare to see the general left speechless, but I understood why. Kindness was antithetical to the nature of a predator; he couldn’t believe his eyes.

For the first time since the humans appeared, I considered that they might be benevolent. They had to feel empathy to understand how to comfort someone, after all. A decision cemented itself in my mind. I couldn’t allow innocent people to die, simply because of their appearance. The predators might be a threat, but we had judged them based on preconceived notions.

“I believe you, Noah,” I sniffled. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s the first time you’ve said my name!” The human turned his head away, hiding a ‘smile.’ “Either of our names.”

I chuckled. “B-better late than never. Kam, rescind the planetary distress signal.”

“I can’t do that, ma’am,” the advisor said.

“I wasn’t asking your opinion. That was an order!” I snapped. “For stars’ sake, I’ll do it myself.”

“You don’t understand. The Federation is already here. They’re hailing us now.”

A string of curses escaped my lips, and the humans tilted their heads in confusion. I tried to imagine how the poor saps felt. A few hours ago, they hadn’t even known extraterrestrial life existed. Now, they learned of a galactic community; one that hated them without provocation. They were taking the news in stride, but it had to be overwhelming.

Unfortunately, I still had one more bombshell to drop on them. How terrifying would it be, as guests on another world, to have warships arrive hellbent on killing you?

“Wait, why is that bad?” Noah asked. “I thought the Federation are your friends.”

I avoided his gaze. “They came because we set off a distress signal. They’re expecting a fight.”

“I see. Well, why don’t we talk to them, and explain that it was a misunderstanding? Once they know that we’re peaceful–”

“No. I appreciate the thought, but the second they see your…” I waved a paw in the general vicinity of my mouth and eyes. “They won’t listen to a word you say. They’ll want you dead.”

Or worse, I added to myself.

“Right…” the human muttered. “So…”

“I’m sorry about all this, really.” I scratched my chin, trying to think. “I’ll try to drive them off. Just stay out of sight, and let me do the talking. Okay?”

Noah nodded. “Got it.”

I took a deep breath. Despite their repulsive appearance, the humans’ actions exuded such a genuine kindness. They were strangely charming, when you sensed the person beneath the monster. If anything happened to Noah and Sara, the responsibility fell on my shoulders. To think minutes ago, I had been hoping for the Federation to swoop in and save us.

Now, my only objective was to save the lives of two predators.

*************************************************************

4. Memory transcription subject: Governor Tarva of the Venlil Republic

Date [standardized human time]: July 12, 2136

If the sensor data was to be believed, the Federation warships were gunning to Venlil Prime at a blistering speed. Their hails seemed urgent, frantic even; they were resending the communication request every few seconds. I had never seen such a harried response, but it made sense.

Venlil Prime enjoyed a strategic location, nestled in the galaxy’s outer arm. It was a fair distance away from Arxur space, so it was difficult for them to execute a surprise assault. Not to mention that it was a key supply route for our troops and a launch-point for rim patrols. Losing such an outpost would be a major setback for the Federation.

As we accepted the hail, I was surprised to recognize the face on screen. It was Captain Sovlin, from the powerful Gojidi Union. He had risen to galactic fame after leading a valiant charge to break an Arxur siege on his home world. Typically, the Federation would just send the nearest available assets, but this time, they’d scrounged up someone competent.

“Governor Tarva.” The relief was plain on Sovlin's face, as he realized that we were alive. “We’re here to assist. What is the reason for your distress?”

The humans were waiting in the wings, just out of view of the camera. Sara jotted something down on her notepad; she seemed to be sketching the new alien before her. A pang of guilt stabbed at my chest, as I realized my instincts were still abuzz. Seeing them out of the corner of my eyes was making my skin crawl. The way they craned their heads to look at the screen…it was sickening.

“I see the Federation sent their finest,” I said. “The Venlil Republic expresses our sincere gratitude for your response. Unfortunately, you’ve come all this way for no reason.”

“By galactic law, that signal is only to be used for an extinction level event. You owe us an explanation. A good one,” the Gojid growled. “Did you deal with…the problem on your own?”

“There was no problem.”

Sovlin blinked several times. “I’m sorry?”

“It was a false alarm. Our sensors malfunctioned due to a software update.”

“What did you think you saw?”

“We thought a pred—um, Arxur ship jumped into orbital range.”

“And you figured out that was false because?”

“There’s nothing up there on visual, Captain. Our backup sensors didn’t detect anything either. Not to mention, we’re still alive.”

The Gojid squinted at me, and I could tell he didn’t quite buy my story. Sensor malfunctions made themselves apparent quickly, due to the lack of corroborating evidence. He knew we should’ve rejected faulty data much faster than the span of a few hours. The sharp glint in his eyes told me he intended to sniff out the truth.

“Kam. You’re awfully quiet,” the Federation officer noted. “Do you have anything to add?”

“I don’t feel like talking.” The military advisor paused. His gaze was not focused on the screen, so I figured he was studying the humans out of his periphery. “Nothing to add anyways. Tarva said it all.”

I breathed a silent sigh of relief. With the extent to which Kam despised the visitors, I half-expected him to out them at the first opportunity. Had this call taken place a few minutes earlier, I suspect he would’ve turned the humans over. But their recent behavior must have impressed their sensitivity upon him too.

Sovlin scrutinized us, suspicion marring his features. “Why didn’t you rescind the distress signal? It’s still broadcasting now.”

“I forgot,” I replied.

“You forgot?!” The captain’s voice leapt up an octave, and he flicked his claws in disgust. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Do you have any idea the systems we’ve exposed by coming here? While we’re chatting, a planet with a real fucking threat could be glassed.”

Well, at least he seemed to buy the story. The Gojid's anger was justified, in fairness. If the Arxur invaded our neighbors now, Federation forces wouldn’t be available to come to their defense.

“Sorry,” I offered meekly.

“Whatever. We’ll need to scan the subspace readings ourselves,” Sovlin said through gritted teeth. “For our logs.”

I swallowed. If the Federation took the measurements themselves, they’d find ample evidence of human activity. The realization that we were hiding predators would horrify a seasoned veteran like Sovlin. With the amount of exposure he had to the grays, he wouldn’t accept the possibility that predators could be more than animals. In all likelihood, he would assume we were acting under duress, no matter what we said. Ships would be requested to bombard Earth the second the trail was identified.

“That will not be acceptable. It’ll only waste more of your time and energy.” I straightened, and tried to make myself look confident. “There is no need for a formal survey. Is our word not enough for your report?”

“Standard protocol dictates—"

“People are freaked out enough from the false alarm. The last thing they need to see is a Federation armada, frolicking around in the atmosphere.”

“You called us, Tarva. I’m going to do my job, and then, I will leave.”

“You’ll leave now. Your ships are not welcome here. If you enter our orbit, you will be fired upon.”

Sovlin’s milky eyes glowed with hatred. “Go ahead then! Fire away. You wouldn’t dare.”

The indicators plotting out the armada’s position crept toward our homeworld, and I sighed in dismay. The last thing I wanted was to be trading missiles with our Federation allies, but we might not have a choice. It seemed that Sovlin would barge into our territory all the same, since he had the firepower to disregard our warning. He figured we’d give into simple, brutish intimidation.

I gave a few tail signals to Kam, indicating for him to detonate missiles just short of their formation. This was an irreversible step, firing upon our long-time allies. The Federation would, at best, abandon us in the fight against the Arxur. Was I damning our species to extinction? I mean, what were the chances that the humans would protect us? Hell, I still wasn’t positive they wouldn't drop the facade, the second this fleet was gone. We should be grateful if they didn’t murder us all themselves.

Captain Sovlin wrenched his claws in shock, as the computer warned him of inbound missiles. He barked at the crew to reverse course and divert power to shields. Then, he relayed orders to the rest of the fleet to fall back. I thought he’d forgotten the video call was open, until he shot a blistering glare at the camera.

“You SHOT AT US!” The Gojid stared at his weapons console, as though considering whether to return fire. “You actually shot at us. That’s an act of war.”

“That was a warning shot. We don’t want to hurt you, but we will,” I hissed.

“How can you be so ungrateful? After all that we’ve done for you,” he spat. “I’ll be recommending sanctions in my report. And the next time you call for help…we’ll let the grays eat you miserable fucks.”

The feed cut out abruptly, and I sank to the floor in relief. There would be hell to pay at the next Federation summit, but at least our mistake had been undone without bloodshed. It remained to be seen how the humans would reward our gamble; their body language betrayed little emotion. What if the astronauts were cross with us? We had plotted and nearly gone through with their execution, after all.

"They're gone." I turned to face the predators, and prayed that we made the right decision. "You're safe now."

Noah clasped his hands together. “Thank you, both of you. You didn’t have to protect us. I hope the consequences aren’t too severe…that guy sounded pissed.”

“Ha, it was worth it. Did you see the look on his face?” Kam chuckled.

Noah’s lips curved up, and a rumbling sound came from his chest. It sounded like growling, but my translator was insistent that it was laughter. The way predators conveyed emotion left a lot to be desired. My logical brain agreed with the machine, but my instincts weren’t as convinced.

Sara jabbed an elbow in her partner’s stomach. “What did they say about smiling?!”

“That hurt!” he protested. “I can’t help it. Kam made me laugh.”

The military advisor flicked his ears. “What can I say? I’m a funny guy.”

“Funny or not, Sovlin wasn’t playing. The Gojids have a lot of pull with the Federation,” I muttered. “We just burned a serious bridge.”

“Can you patch things up down the road?” Sara asked.

“After decades of groveling? Sure.” I sighed, shaking my head. “But enough of that. We need to talk.”

The female predator nodded. “What about?

“First off, do you still want to be here? We’ve been terrible hosts. I understand if you rescind your offer of friendship, after what we put you through.”

“It takes more than that to scare us off, Tarva. I’m happy we could work through our differences together.”

Sara was well-spoken, same as her partner, but I couldn’t shake the lingering doubts. If our species were to make an honest attempt at friendship, disclosure of Arxur history was a must. A secret that abhorrent couldn’t fester between us, especially when it would be the subtext of all our interactions.

When the humans learned what the Arxur had done, they would realize their own species’ untapped potential. The tales would trickle back to Terran leadership and circulate amongst the populace. What if it inspired them to take up the torch? It wasn’t too late to change their mind on harming us. How deep could a predator’s compassion run, anyways?

I drew a shaky breath. “We never answered your question, about the…first predators we encountered. I think we owe you a p-proper explanation.”

“You don’t owe us anything,” Noah said in a soft tone. “If you’re not ready, you don’t have to talk about it.”

My resolve hardened as I met the male human’s eyes. I recalled the horror in Noah’s voice, when Kam suggested they were here to kill us all. The feel of his rough thumb, wiping saline from my cheek. Those weren’t the actions of the Arxur. These were people, with intelligence and emotion.

“I want to. I want you to know everything.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, Tarva?” Kam asked.

“Yes, I am. I have to believe that the humans are worth the risk we’re taking.” I could feel my heart rate accelerating, despite my confident words. The mere thought of the grays conjured fear and dread. “The first predators were the Arxur. The Federation has been at war with them for centuries.”

The male human raised an eyebrow. “All of you, against them?”

“And it’s not enough,” I responded. “Noah, they’ve hunted twenty percent of all sentient species to extinction. In this galaxy, anyways.”

His predatory eyes widened. “…why?!”

“They kill for pleasure. They want us to suffer.” I reached for my tablet, and pulled up a recent video the Arxur had sent us. “See for yourself.”

Noah pried the device out of my paws, and Sara leaned in to look at the footage. It depicted a group of Arxur guards, laughing as they released farm-raised Venlil pups from their pen. The reptilians wanted to hunt their meals. To watch their prey squirm in terror. The younglings had their eyes gouged out, and if they didn’t run fast enough to amuse the guards, they were prodded with an electric rod.

As the Arxur clubbed a pup repeatedly on screen, making sure to break all of its limbs first, I watched the humans’ reactions. At first, they seemed shocked, but then…their countenance morphed into something else. Their faces contorted into a mask of pure hatred: eyes dilated, lips curled back, neck veins bulging. There was the predator that had been concealed with such care. I was suddenly more inclined to believe that a “smile” was their friendly expression.

The humans either had a sudden desire to eat us, or were livid at the treatment of our people. I hoped it was the latter.

“This is how they treat prisoners? Children at that?” Sara asked.

Children at that. She seemed to implicitly understand that made it worse.

“Prisoners? No, that’s a farm.” Kam eyed the humans warily, but his tone had lost its edge. “The hardy species become slaves, the ones that taste good become food, and everyone else gets their planets blown to smithereens.”

Noah passed the tablet back to me. I flinched at the iciness in his glare.

“Send us everything you have on the Arxur,” he said. “There’s a human concept I’m sure Earth would love to teach them.”

I stared at the angry predator. “And…what is that concept, exactly?”

A toothy smile crossed Noah’s face. “We call it ‘karma.’”

******************************************************

5. Memory transcription subject: UN Secretary-General Elias Meier

Date [standardized human time]: July 13, 2136

The 2136 climate change summit was the latest in an ongoing saga, complete with the usual finger pointing and empty promises. The United Nations had taken on a role as a central world government following the Satellite Wars of the late 21st century; Russia, China, and the United States were still rebuilding their crippled power grids in its aftermath. After realizing the extent of our dependence on technology, the world’s countries signed the Treaty of Shanghai to govern cyberwarfare. As part of the accord, the UN was given greater authority to mediate disputes, in the hopes of preventing escalation in the future.

Following several natural disasters this year, the general assembly convened to discuss solutions. Investment in fusion energy was the main item on the docket, though I doubted any parties would commit beyond fancy words.

Despite my jaded view, as UN Secretary-General, my presence was mandatory at all of these events. I was zoned out while the Canadian ambassador spoke, nodding and smiling every now and then to keep up appearances. An aide tapped me on the shoulder, startling me out of my trance.

“Sir,” she whispered. “I need you to come with me.”

What was so important that it couldn’t wait an hour? My staff were instructed to only approach in an emergency. There was the brief moment of worry, as I wondered whether there was a credible threat to my life. My security detail seemed relaxed though, so that likely was not the case.

I followed her into a briefing room, where several serious-looking individuals were waiting. The amount of military personnel present made me think that some conflict had erupted. The strange thing was that representatives of various space agencies were present, including ESA, NASA, and CNSA. The gears started to turn in my head. The first extrasolar mission had departed a few weeks ago, but they weren’t supposed to return for months. Something must have gone wrong.

I settled down at the head of the mahogany table. “Quite the crowd we’ve got here. Could someone please fill me in?”

“The Odyssey crew made contact with extraterrestrials.” A short-haired woman in a leather jacket passed me a folder. Her nametag read Dr. Kuemper, SETI. “They call themselves the Venlil. According to our new friends, there are hundreds of other intelligent species out there. We’re not alone, Mr. Secretary. This is the biggest news of all time.”

I leafed through the dossier, taking a moment to process the news. The first page was a grainy image of the astronauts, standing with a group of Venlil. The aliens were bipedal, like us, but that was where the similarities ended. They had woolly gray fur, side-facing eyes, and spindly legs that bent inward. I wasn’t even sure if they had noses.

Any information released to the public needed to be handled with the utmost care. Science fiction had gotten people used to the idea of aliens, but the revelation of hundreds of species at once? That would shatter any notion of humanity being special. Some people would be frightened, and we needed to make sure they looked to us for the answers. The last thing we needed was for conspiracy theorists and UFO-hunters to take control of the discussion. The situation could devolve into a panic fast.

Not to mention how delicate communication with the aliens would be. Their culture was entirely new; we could offend them without even realizing. It was no small task ahead of us: learning their language, establishing diplomatic relations, and monitoring potential threats. It would be the work of an entire generation.

“I count at least forty generals in this room, which seems unnecessary,” I said at last. “Are the aliens friendly?”

Dr. Kuemper frowned. “It’s not so simple, I’m afraid.”

“What do you mean? That shouldn’t be a hard question.” I had been expecting a ‘yes’, not a noncommittal reply. My heart sank as her implication hit me. “Either they’re friendly or they’re hostile.”

“The aliens are friendly, except for one species. That species is at war with the rest of the galaxy, and they’re quite the formidable foe. They wiped out 62 worlds, and fighting them has cost billions of lives.”

“They destroyed 62 planets…by themselves?! Jesus Christ. Please, tell me you’re kidding.”

“I wish, sir. There’s a full brief on the page labeled ‘Arxur’ in your file. There’s also footage of them committing every war crime in the book. I mean, they literally eat children.”

“Shit. Let’s face it: we’re barely spacefaring. We need to hammer out alliances with the other aliens, pronto. I want every diplomat relegated to this project.”

“Well, that’s the thing.” Dr. Kuemper gave me an apologetic smile, as though she was about to give more bad news. How could this get any worse? “The Federation is afraid of us. The Venlil governor thinks they wouldn’t want our friendship, even with her blessing. In fact, she says they might attack us on sight.”

“Why exactly?” I asked.

“Humans are predators, and the only other intelligent predator…”

“Let me guess. The Arxur,” I sighed.

The SETI researcher nodded. With a heavy heart, I leaned back in my chair. Humans could be petty and violent, but even on our worst days, we didn’t eat children. You could at least give us that.

A bitter smirk played at my lips. “So I’m hearing not to invite the Venlil to the family barbecue. Yes, Doctor?”

Dr. Kuemper stifled a laugh. “And not to make that comment to them either, sir. I doubt they’d be amused. The poor furballs thought we were there to kill them.”

“But we won them over, didn’t we? Are you certain we can’t bring the Federation around too? I don’t like the odds, us taking on a technologically superior species alone.”

“I’m positive. Tarva was quite emphatic. Our astronauts say her primary concern was for the safety of Earth, as a whole. She believes there could be some…drastic overreactions. After what they’ve been through, I can’t say I blame them.”

In that case, humanity shouldn’t expect a welcome party from our neighbors. It was a shame our evolutionary link with the Arxur precluded that possibility, or even the prospect of civil relations. The fact that first contact hadn’t ended in violence was miraculous, by the sound of it. Things could have fallen apart without the astronauts ever realizing why. We’d know only that the aliens attacked a research vessel without cause; this would be a very different briefing.

I made a mental note to give Governor Tarva a proper thanks, for staying her hand and filling us in. While I didn’t want to rule out swaying the aliens, gambling with Earth’s security was out of the question. Mankind were on our own against a genocidal scourge.

“Well then. This is the rare occasion I’m open to suggestion from the peanut gallery.” My eyes locked with the American and Chinese generals, who appeared to be discussing something. “Do you have a proposal?”

General Zhao cleared his throat. “It’s not all bad news. From what we’ve seen, the Federation’s tactics and weaponry are subpar. We should spend a few months building a proper fleet and running joint exercises. I think if we catch the Arxur by surprise, we might stand a chance.”

“I agree.” General Jones offered a supportive nod, and I raised an eyebrow at her. This might be the first time I’d seen the US and China work together since the war. “Once we’re ready, UN forces can coordinate an offensive. We’ve found several potential targets, including planets where sentients are bred as food.”

“A ground assault is the perfect way to test our forces, without showing our hand. We don’t want to overcommit,” General Zhao added. “If we can liberate some Federation citizens and bring them home, it might buy us some good will.”

“We all agree that these Arxur are a menace, but I must ask. Should we really get involved at all?” I paused, choosing my next words carefully. “So far, they’ve left us alone. By launching an attack, we’ll be announcing our presence to those monsters. We drag Earth into a galactic war and risk untold human lives. Do we chance becoming dead world #63 for a bunch of aliens who hate us?”

“In my opinion, they’ll come for us eventually. We either fight them now or we fight them later,” General Jones replied. “The difference is, if we choose later, we won’t have anyone to stand with us. The Federation is not faring well.”

I grimaced. The Arxur’s sadism was bound to awaken unsavory sentiments, when it was plastered across the airwaves. How were we going to prevent widespread hysteria? My original plan was to break this discovery to the masses gradually, but with such a serious crisis, people deserved fair warning. After all, humanity’s existence hinged on the decisions that were made today. I hoped the public could handle the truth.

“If we’re going to do this, we need unity at home. People need to know what they’re signing up for.” I pressed a hand to my temple, trying to suppress a growing headache. “Release everything to the public, and let them make the decision. If there’s broad support for a war, then we’ll fight the bastards.”

Perhaps the revelation of aliens would make us set aside our differences, and face this threat as a united species. As far as I knew, Earth only had one chance to get this right.

*********************************************************************

6. Memory transcription subject: Slanek, Venlil Space Corps

Date [standardized human time]: August 21, 2136

The first humans to appear on a Venlil broadcast were concealed by a vac suit, and did not speak a word. The watching world had just crawled from our bunkers, only to find our leaders linking arms with predators. The immediate closure of the borders was the sole thing that prevented a mass exodus, and word from getting back to the Federation. There was a great deal of skepticism from the public, as Governor Tarva proclaimed that these beasts were peaceful. We were all waiting for them to throw their lot in with the Arxur and prove her wrong.

Instead, the United Nations pledged military aid days later, and showered Venlil Prime with food donations. Our citizens slowly warmed to the primates, touched by their outpouring of generosity. The sum of their good works quieted the voices calling for human extinction, for the most part. The Terran astronauts were relentless too, on a television tour espousing peace. Their behavior reflected well on their species as a whole.

But at the end of the day, few wanted to meet a predator in the flesh. As human volunteers took to the stars, the scientific communities of two worlds worked to smooth over our first interactions. We found ourselves inundated by Terran entertainment, granting us a peek behind their bestial exterior. The first literature Earth shared with us was Frankenstein, which I’m pretty sure was a thinly-veiled analogy.

How do you convince the world that you’re not a monster, when they decide with a single glance?

The scientists decided it would make a difference mentally for us to bond, and to see them as people. A program was launched to talk to a human via text chat, no videos or images. Their appearance was the stuff of nightmares, so it was easier to start without that in mind.

Out of morbid curiosity, and perhaps some pity for Frankenstein’s wretch, I had volunteered. The human I spoke to was named Marcel. He was a soldier with a dry sense of humor, a passion for environmental causes, and a philosophical mind. Against the odds, I liked him; we became inseparable. I confided my deepest thoughts, and learned a great deal about Terran life in return.

We finally docked. God, that was terrifying, Marcel texted. Longest four hours of my life.

It’ll be worth it. I’m excited to meet you, I replied.

Me too, bud. I know it won’t be easy for you. If you need space, or it’s too much, please tell me.

I will.

After weeks of distant communication, the final phase was exposure therapy. The plan was for us to room with our human counterpart for several days. I would be alone with a predator with no escape. They said once you got past the first few hours, the nerves would settle down. We needed to get used to the humans, if they were ever to be accepted.

What do you think I look like? Marcel asked. In your head?

I don’t know. I try not to think about it.

Why not? You know what humans look like from TV.

Well, it’s weird to think that you’re a predator. That you look at a dead animal, all that blood and guts, and think, ‘Hey, that’s food.’

I’m a vegetarian, Slanek. Not applicable.

Gah…not you specifically. I mean humans in general. The fact that you’re wired to think that’s appetizing. To kill other animals for a meal.

It’s not like that but…it’s just evolution. Biology sucks.

It does. I guess I’ll know what you look like soon, Marcel.

Yep. A face only a mother could love.

I snorted, amused in spite of myself. The clicking of boots down the hall meant the humans were in the building; there were mere seconds to brace myself. I switched off my holopad, and tried to regulate my breathing. We were allowing enough of them in to handily overtake this space station, if they were to try. These were social predators, so perhaps encouraging them to travel in packs wasn’t the best idea…

The door swung open; I was flabbergasted by the imposing wall of muscle that entered. Something deep in my subconscious howled at the sight of a predator, blocking my only escape route. Startling hazel eyes scanned my figure, and my breath hitched in my throat. Marcel’s lips twitched for a moment, and I could tell from how he pursed them he didn’t want to smile. We had been warned repeatedly about the humans’ teeth-baring display of friendliness.

“Slanek.” The voice was harsh and raspy, as though he was gargling saltwater. “I know the feeling’s not mutual, but God, you’re adorable.”

I gritted my teeth, trying not to back away. “T-thanks. C-come in.”

The human saw that I had set my belongings on the bottom bunk, and tossed his duffel bag on top. Well, this isn’t that bad, I thought. There had been no sudden movements, he was keeping his distance, and he didn’t have the razor teeth of the Arxur. With his back to me, I couldn’t see his piercing eyes. All positives. My heart was hammering in my chest, but I had kept myself together.

“Jeesh, I’m starving,” the human announced, as he began to unpack.

There were few words I would’ve liked to hear less. Isolated in close quarters with a hungry “vegetarian” predator…aw fuck, why had I signed up for this? The nearest meal was obviously me. I skittered backward on instinct, trying to shield my throat.

Marcel frowned. “I was just going to suggest that we grab a bite together. Or, uh, I brought snacks. We can share.”

“Sorry,” I squeaked.

The human retrieved a plastic bag from his belongings, and popped it open with a single tug. He withdrew a yellow wafer, shoving it down his gullet. As he turned the bag to face me, I eyed the offering suspiciously.

“It’s a potato chip,” he said, before I could ask. “Baked from a Terran plant.”

Did I trust the predator enough to consume his foodstuff? How did I know it wasn’t dried animal fat? I tried to remind myself that this was my friend. The one who gave me relationship advice and told silly jokes. My stomach squirmed as I grasped a chip, but I placed it in my mouth anyways. It was salty and starchy, yet strangely addictive.

My ears twitched with pleasant surprise. “That’s good.”

“Isn’t it?” Marcel mumbled, through a mouthful of food. “I figure we could use some carbs, before these…ugh, experiments you want us in.”

“They mentioned something about that. It’s psychological research, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know. Your scientists just mentioned it was a test. The UN signed off on it, so I’d hope it’s ethical.”

“They probably just want to be sure you don’t want to eat us.”

“I’ll pass with flying colors then. Not sure where the lab is though.”

“Uh, I’ll take you there.”

“Great. Let’s get it over with, shall we?”

Once the fright began to subside, speaking to Marcel felt less forced. It tickled my instincts, but not in a way my conscious brain couldn’t override. A little discomfort was nothing I couldn’t handle. It wasn’t like he had actually done anything to threaten me, or diverged from his online persona in a noticeable way. Chatting via text was easier, but it was unfair to ostracize the humans forever. The predators had been understanding enough as things were.

Unless any red flags were uncovered in their psychological screening, Terran soldiers would accompany Venlil ships on today’s mid-rotation patrols. It was possible UN Peacekeepers would remain as permanent fixtures in our crew. In that case, I would be relieved to have a conclusive answer on the workings of the human mind. Predators were known to toy with their prey in nature. The more intelligent they were, the more sadistic and deceptive they could be.

I tried not to think about what I would do, if I found out Marcel’s niceties were a long con. There were a few humans present at the lab, probably to monitor the methods used for research. Sara, who I recognized as a lingering visitor from the UN first contact team, was hunched over a microscope. She seemed to be analyzing some cell samples with a Venlil scientist, and waved at us as we entered.

“Welcome!” How Sara sensed us, with her lack of peripheral vision, was beyond me. “Here for the behavioral exam?”

“Uh, yep. I think,” my roommate grumbled.

“Excellent. Just sign the consent form, and then speak to Ilja here.” Sara gestured toward the Venlil hovering beside her. “Don’t worry. It’ll be quick.”

Marcel hesitated before scrawling his name on the dotted line. I noted how thin and frail his fingers looked, for a predator; they were like spindly twigs. Either my imagination was running amok, or his hands quivered as he set the pen down. The humans looked terrifying to us, but I couldn’t picture them going toe-to-toe with the Arxur.

Before the ink dried on his signature, Ilja was strapping Marcel to a chair. The restraints seemed excessive for a consensual test. Electrodes were fastened to his skull, and his shirt was removed to tape a series of wires to his chest. Clips placed on his fingers fed additional data to a vitals monitor. I noticed the human growing more agitated, the more equipment he was hooked up to. The rise and fall of his chest had quickened dramatically.

“Don’t leave, Slanek. Please,” he pleaded. “This is making me nervous as hell.”

A sympathetic ache filled my chest cavity. It was strange to think that the predator was afraid of us, but I hated seeing a friend in distress. What were our scientists testing, exactly? Guarantees were necessary to cement trust in these creatures, but I was worried about what would be done to achieve that. It looked as though they were planning to elicit a violent reaction from Marcel. Human subjects deserved proper treatment, not to be goaded into retaliation.

Why do I feel so protective of him? I mused. I haven’t known him that long.

“It’s going to be okay, Marc.” I waved my tail reassuringly. “They won’t hurt you. I promise.”

The human furrowed his brow. “But you’ll stay?”

“Of course. I’ll be here.”

Marcel relaxed, and the twinge in my chest deepened. The sentiments I felt in this moment suggested that, despite the inherent risk, it was possible to grow attached to a predator. Whether humanity was sincere in its friendship, or if that was a one-sided delusion, remained to be seen

****************************************************************************************

7. Memory transcription subject: Slanek, Venlil Space Corps

Date [standardized human time]: August 21, 2136

The patrol ship drifted along the Federation border, dispelling fuel into the endless night. A brooding Marcel sat at the helm, under my supervision. Human pilots had no real-world experience flying ships; their only insight to interplanetary battles were clumsy simulations back home. Perhaps it was unfair to hurl them into the war out of desperation, as unprepared as they were.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the results of the experiments, and how revolutionary the findings would be when broadcast. Marcel bolted from the lab in a sweat-soaked stupor, and I made a judgment call to give him some time to regain his senses. In his absence, Ilja shared a cumulative AI analysis of all human subjects. A larger sample size was needed to validate the findings, but it was enough to put my mind at ease.

We had proof that humans felt empathy.

The predators were recorded doing things they claimed to enjoy as a baseline for pleasure: eating sugary snacks, listening to their favorite song, playing games, and so on. A variety of other metrics were assessed for comparison, including boredom and anger. Then, they were shown videos of the Arxur torturing our children.

Interestingly enough, the regions of their brain that were activated were most similar to the baseline for physical pain (which we determined through finger pricking). Some human participants were so disturbed by the videos that they had to leave the room. That even manifested itself in physical symptoms, such as elevated heart rate and vomiting.

Much to my relief, the restraints proved an unnecessary precaution. Venlil xenobiologists were worried that violent footage might trigger predatory instincts, and that humans could experience a lapse in control. They wanted to avoid having to put a Terran subject down, if they lashed out; it was best for everyone’s safety.

My gaze flickered over to Marcel, curiosity brimming in my chest. The human was evidently lost in thought as well. His face was bright red, as he cast a smoldering stare at the floorboards. I was worried he was going to rip his own hair out, with how he was tugging at the coarse auburn strands. Perhaps I should leave it alone, but I was dying to know his thoughts.

“If I may ask— what frightened you about our scientists?” I blurted out. “Did you really think they would hurt you? We don’t have the same disposition as you.”

“You’re going to laugh but…most of our old myths about aliens…um…”

“Yes?”

“Well, they involve us getting abducted and experimented on. Hey, for all I knew, you were testing how humans react to torture.”

“You think we’re that barbaric?! Our scientists just want to help you fit in. We need conclusive evidence of your empathetic capacity. Else, we’ll never silence the doubters.”

“I don’t see why we needed to prove, yet again, that we’re not the Arxur. Humans haven’t done anything to you.”

“You’re a contradiction of hundreds of years of scientific thought, Marc. Not to mention, certain groups in the Federation won’t like you, much more than us. They’ll demand proof, and I’m not sure even the finest scientific rigor will withstand their scrutiny. It’s not fair. I know.”

The human was silent, directing an intense glare at the scanner feed. The subspace readings were blank, with no indicators of activity beside our own. If there was anything to be gleaned, it wasn’t on an empty screen. Maybe the experiments had jarred something in his personality after all, because I never remembered him being so sullen online. If we needed to abandon the patrol and return to base, I’d like to know sooner rather than later. Before he endangered himself, or others.

“Are you alright?” I patted the human on the shoulder, and felt him stiffen beneath my paw. “I know that footage disturbed you…and I’m sorry.”

Marcel sighed. “No, I’m sorry. I’m furious, but not with you. I want to wring my hands around an Arxur’s neck.”

“I don’t see how that would improve anything.”

“At least I’d be doing something.”

“You’re here. You’re protecting us.”

“Yes. Someone has to put a stop to their reign of terror. There’s been no issue recruiting people back on Earth. The way the grays get off on tormenting children, it sickens us. Why are they like that?”

“I wanted to ask you that, Marc. We believed that predators evolve through warfare. Killing and cruelty—isn’t it a survival advantage to you?”

“Well…killing, yes. Killing the competition, or the dangerous things that lurk in the night; I suppose that’s how we became predators. We aren’t natural ones, you know. We were once prey animals, same as you, using our cooperation to survive.”

“What?! And you chose to be l-like them?!”

“Yep. I won’t pretend we’re cute and cuddly like you. Some people have walked ghastly paths throughout our history. There's plenty of blood on our hands. But in modern times, we have rules for war called the Geneva Conventions. The Arxur’s methods are dishonorable and pathetic.”

Before I could inquire as to the nature of these “Geneva Conventions”, shrill alarms blared from the ship’s computer. Nine indicators popped up on the scanner feed, suggesting inbound Arxur bombers. The flurry of activity, when the humans arrived, must have piqued their interest. The reptilians loved to target weak links, and an isolated station such as our lodging was just that.

There were countermeasures, developed over the centuries, but I didn’t know if they’d be sufficient today. Our onboard AI could map the enemy’s trajectory, then time a warp-disruptor pulse with that information. Once we knocked the grays out of hyperspace, our directive was to scamper off until reinforcements arrived. Slowing the Arxur’s progress bought valuable minutes, even without a confrontation. It could mean the difference between catastrophic loss of life and a successful defense.

I switched on the comms link. “Prime Outpost, we’re reading nine Arxur bombers en route. Figure they have you as their target.”

“Fuck. We have to stop them at all costs.” The exhaustion was evident in the male Venlil’s voice that answered. I couldn’t imagine how much stress the officers were under, monitoring the UN arrivals. “The first large transport of humans, and a couple hundred wind up dead? They’ll never forgive us. They’ll never send anyone again…”

“Um, sir, my human partner can hear you,” I said.

“Oh. Right. This is General Kam from Venlil Command, we copy you. I’ll ask the humans to position their so-called ‘fighters’ on an intercept course, while we evacuate personnel here. Stall for time if you can.”

I drew a shaky breath. “Yes, sir. We’ll do our best.”

Nausea swelled in my throat, as I synced the ship computer with the disruptor beacons lining the border. My mind strayed to its usual dark corner: replaying my brother’s funeral. The shock was still as fresh as it was months ago, when I first learned that his transport ship was gunned down. There wasn’t a trace left to remember him by; no body to recover.

Would I be the next to fall by the Arxur’s claws?

Every instinct told me to flee; to put as much distance between us and those monsters as possible. However, the pulses needed to be timed down to the nanosecond, which meant our proximity was a necessity. My brain felt overstimulated, as if my senses were set aflame.

Being around a human for hours…it’s pushed me to my limit. It’s hard to think, with my nerves all frazzled. I pondered with a tinge of guilt. How selfish I am. I haven’t even considered how Marc is feeling.

I hoped the wordless Marcel was okay with the peril we were in. He had loved ones back on Earth, including a fiancé whom he spoke of with fondness. He didn’t want to die here. There was no data on how the primates behaved in life-threatening situations, or how they coped with stress.

But with the grays closing in on our position, there was no time to explain our standard procedure. We thought there’d be time for our allies to settle in, before hurling them into the fire. Hopefully, humans had solid self-preservation instincts, and could use their cleverness to fill in the blanks. Those bombers were about to become quite real.

There were no visible signs of distortion as our pulse detonated. The AI’s calculation was silent and flawless. I’d liken FTL disruption to pulling a rug out beneath someone’s feet. The warp bubble burst in an instant, plunging the Arxur vessels into real space. No doubt it was disorienting for those hellspawn on board.

Watching their angular ships spring forth from nothingness would be a magical sight, if the stakes weren’t so dire. The bombers slowed to regain their bearings, and to scope out their surroundings. They wished to exact revenge on the prey animal who dared to fight back.

It was evident Arxur architects spared no thought for beauty. Plasma railguns jutted out on both flanks, perfect for slinging destructive volleys. Turrets for kinetic weapons dotted the armor, in case of a close-range engagement. The curvature of the underbelly provided storage for anti-matter missiles. I imagine the predators relished the terror their constructs instilled. Witnessing their fleet felt like peering into the jaws of death.

“Hideous ships, huh?” I quipped.

There was no reply from Marcel. I would suspect he froze in fear, if I hadn’t seen his hands tighten around the steering column. An uneasy feeling crept into my mind. Every creature handled stress differently, but his behavior was off by a long shot. C’mon Slanek. The grays are the threat here, I scolded myself. Not the human.

“Knock knock. Anyone home?” I tried to keep my voice playful, but I was desperate to snap the human out of his trance. “You do see their ships, and realize we’re alone? There is safety in numbers. It’s time to head back to base.”

Marcel leaned forward, fangs protruding in a menacing snarl. I noted with abject horror how his eyes dilated, and his canines glistened with saliva. If that was an expression of happiness, why was it appearing when our territory was under siege?

“Marc, we need to flee. Now.” I shook the human on the shoulder, but he shrugged me off. “Marc? Shit man, they definitely s-spotted us. MARCEL!! Floor it… I beg you.”

“EAT THIS MOTHERFUCKERS!” Marcel roared, disregarding me entirely.

The human did floor it: to charge in the direction of the Arxur fleet. What happened?! He went berserk; he was so lucid minutes ago!

I tried to scream a plea to stop, but it came out as an incoherent yelp. The predator either didn’t know how, or didn’t bother to prime the targeting system. He jammed a clawless finger on the firing trigger, spraying plasma rounds with impunity. The glaring aggression seemed to take the grays by surprise; it marked a drastic shift from a Venlil’s typical flightiness.

A few glancing blows struck the lead ship, jolting its pitch. One must have impacted the propulsion system, since its drive-plume flickered out. Marcel turned the stream of fire toward the crippled vessel’s brethren. Some hits connected at random, though the Arxur seemed more pissed off than wounded. We made a swooping pass across the formation, before banking heavily in the direction from which we came. The computer warned me that we had been target-locked by all nine hostiles.

“Run?” I whimpered.

Marcel cleared his throat. “Yep. Good idea.”

The human pointed the ship in the direction of the Federation border. Why wasn’t he trying to return to the outpost? The last remnants of my logical brain suggested that he was trying to lure the Arxur away. I winced as my harness chafed into my neck. Our inertial dampeners were struggling to keep up with our blistering acceleration.

Only two Arxur ships gave chase, while the rest returned to their intended course. They couldn’t resist sending someone to hunt a straggler down. I knew the enemy bombers would slowly close the gap, with relentless abandon. The optimal way to lose our pursuers was to slip into subspace, but unfortunately, warp required several minutes of stationary preparation. The human signed our death warrant with his stupidity.

Our puny ship gunned away from safety, with a pair of apex predators in hot pursuit.

*****************************************************************************

8. Memory transcription subject: Captain Sovlin, Federation Fleet Command

Date [standardized human time]: August 21, 2136

Making an enemy of a starship captain was ill-advised, even in these trying times.

My astonishment, at being evicted from Venlil territory by force, still hadn’t faded. There was no reason for flagrant disrespect, especially when we were responding to their cry for help. When Governor Tarva started waving missiles around, it felt personal. It was fair to say I harbored a permanent grudge against them.

Tarva’s behavior could be chalked up as war-induced psychosis, if not for the mayhem that followed. Without a word as to why, the Venlil withdrew from the Federation’s military. Their borders were sealed, cutting off crucial supplies and outposts. Any ships seeking entry were turned back at gunpoint. Alien diplomats and visitors were barred from leaving Venlil space, or even contacting their homeworlds.

It was like something from a dystopian novel. Division in our ranks was the last thing we needed, with how the Arxur had been pressing lately. A diplomatic resolution was the desired outcome to any crisis, if at all possible.

But when it took begging for the Venlil to provide proof of life, it didn’t seem there was room for negotiation. Tarva hadn’t offered any timeframe, terms, or conditions for a release. This was no temporary standoff either. It had been over a month, and none of their actions were rescinded. The Federation were a lot of dithering idiots, afraid of ruffling feathers, but even their patience had limits.

Major players, including my own Gojidi Union, were incensed at our people’s hostage status. Judging by the protests across the galaxy, I wasn’t the only one who felt compelled to take matters into my own paws. Whatever the Venlil Republic was hiding, I was determined to get to the bottom of it.

“Sovlin.” Piri, the Gojid prime minister, sighed in irritation. She must have seen my eyes glass over. “You still with me? Or are you off plotting revenge in that thick head of yours?”

I blinked several times. “Sorry, ma’am.”

“…As I was saying, I’m disappointed in you. You went off snooping on the Venlil, without permission, and used Federation resources to do so. What do you have to say for yourself?” Piri asked.

“I haven’t crossed their border.” I pointed a claw at the viewport, toward the invisible threshold. “If we decide to break our people out by force, we need the facts. The Federation has a right to know what the Venlil are up to.”

“What makes you think they’re up to anything?”

“Tarva isn’t stupid enough to commit diplomatic suicide. Not without cause. I mean, the resolution condemning their actions passed by unanimous vote. She’s lucky we haven’t done more than place their membership on probation.”

Piri tilted her head, weighing the circumstances for herself. Shutting down all communication overnight and banning travel looked draconian to me. The drastic nature of it all did not make sense; I couldn’t fathom what quelled the populace’s rebellion. The entire galaxy was iced out for an unknown transgression; even the Venlil’s closest allies were left baffled and in the dark. Talk of warfare was brewing, as much as the Federation wished for it not to be so.

Why would Tarva invite such extreme fallout? What could make losing every partner worth it?

“I don’t disagree. The Venlil would need a serious incentive to draw our ire,” the politician said. “They’ve always been loyal to the Federation, until now. What’s your take?”

“Well, I would think it was cowardice, if they had run off,” I growled. “It’s as though they’re trying to make enemies of us!”

“It can’t be that. Not with the Arxur breathing down their necks, every hour of every day.” Piri focused her gaze on me, a disapproving glint in her eyes. “I should reprimand you, Sovlin, but I’d like some answers myself. What have you learned through your… prying?”

“The Venlil are still letting someone into their territory. I’m not sure if it’s a Federation member. A group of transports docked at a fringe outpost today. They weren’t chased away like the rest of us.”

“And you’re sure they were allowed to stay?”

“I’m positive. They got an escort from the ceremonial fleet. Tarva’s personal parade! I’m just not close enough to make out their subspace origin. Not, er, without crossing the border.”

“So that’s why you called me now. You want my blessing, in case you get caught, and I hear about it the hard way.”

“That’s one way of putting it, ma’am. May I poke around?”

“Ugh, very well. I want a report as soon as you learn anything. And Sovlin…don’t make me regret this.”

The video feed cut out. I eyed the space ahead of us with giddiness, and gave my first officer a tail thump that meant proceed. The posting was filled by Recel, a veteran of the Kolshian Commonwealth. There would be no objections to my plan from him. His allegiance was to the Federation first, and unveiling the truth about the Venlil’s misdeeds was in the collective interest. Anyone with eyes could see that their behavior was off.

The crew leapt into action, as Recel declared a new course for the fringes of Venlil space. We could hide behind the guise that we were patrolling and strayed into their territory by mistake. All I needed was to get in range for our signal interceptors. Local broadcasts could offer some clues, if subspace readings proved unattainable.

Our warship pivoted, angling us toward the forbidden region. I settled down in the captain’s chair and monitored the bridge. We would drift over the border gradually, in the interest of stealth. If we were able to pull this mission off, I would be acclaimed for my initiative. Satisfaction swelled in my chest, at the thought of adding to my repute.

“Sir. You might want to look at the scanner data!” Recel barked. “Venlil patrol ship, heading straight for us.”

I slammed my paw down in frustration. “We’re still on our side of the border! They can’t object to us patrolling our own damn space.”

According to the computer, the patrol vessel was on an intercept course toward us. The sensor data suggested their speed was at max velocity, well above all safety recommendations. They were going to burn out their own engines, pushing them to that degree! How had they gotten wise to our plans? My call with Prime Minister Piri was encrypted, so I didn’t see how they could’ve listened in.

“Radio silence from that little boat,” Recel noted. “What do you want to do?”

My spines bristled. “Order them to change course at once, and have weapons on stand-by. We’re not going to let that shit-heap stop us.”

With the viewport on the highest magnification, I could make out a tiny dot racing toward our position. Its course was erratic, as though the stabilizers were close to giving out. Several hails had gone unanswered, and the Venlil ship failed to deviate from its course.

The patrol vessel paid no regard to the border, breezing into our territory without any deceleration. Silence fell over the bridge; the tension was palpable. I knew my crew still felt some sense of attachment to the Venlil, after years of steadfast alliance. It was for their sake that I wasn’t striking this craft down on the spot.

“Fire a warning shot, and hail them one final time,” I ordered. “If there’s no acknowledgment, I want them finished.”

Three plasma rounds were lobbed just above the patrol ship’s flight path. Its pace slowed, as though the pilot was second-guessing their decisions. The hesitation was brief though; it returned to its stubborn sprint moments later. Had the Venlil fallen victim to some neurological plague?! That would explain everything.

I gritted my teeth. “Kill them. They need to be taught a lesson.”

“Wait, sir. We’re detecting two more vessels on their tail…Arxur bombers,” my first officer said.

At last, a decent explanation for why the Venlil refused to turn back. If those reptile bastards were after them, I suppose there was no retreating. Why they were unresponsive to our hails was another question, especially with the delicate situation between our species.

The patrol ship’s engine sputtered, and the pilot coaxed it to a resting position. The vessel swiveled around to face the Arxur bombers. It looked like an insect compared to any warship, yet its size did not prove a deterrent. As soon as the enemy pursuers became visible, it began hurling plasma rounds in their direction. The caliber was insufficient to trade blows with the grays, but the helmsman didn’t seem to care. The coughing engine was prodded back to life…to give them a push in the enemy’s direction?

Yep, neurological plague. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

The Republic craft dipped down to avoid return fire, and pressed on with its advance. In spite of myself, I was impressed with the pilot’s ability to overpower their instincts. Whatever my personal feelings toward the Venlil, this bravery was unmistakable; and to be honest, very unlike them. Their accuracy was lacking, however, and the Arxur ships absorbed any hits that landed.

“Sir, should we intervene?” my first officer asked.

“How many times have we saved them already?” I grumbled. “And for what?”

Recel wagged a grasper at me. “You wouldn’t let the Arxur kill innocent people, over a grudge with Tarva.”

“I suppose not. Advance on the Arxur bombers, and line them up with the railguns.”

I could sense the crew’s relief from their eagerness to carry out the new orders. Perhaps they had been worried that my previous threat to let the grays eat the Venlil was serious? It would take a more depraved captain than I to spectate a predator’s hunt.

The lights on the bridge dimmed, which was confirmation that the railgun was charging. In high enough doses, a blast of concentrated energy could chew through even Arxur armor. There was a reason the Federation invested in such slow, gargantuan ships. Powering effective weapons required a large backbone.

A radiant beam sailed through the inky sky, connecting with an enemy vessel. Pleasure rolled down my spines as our plasma lanced through the engine. There was one Arxur bomber finished in a fiery flash. Our railgun would take several seconds to recharge, so I hoped the Venlil ship could hang on a little longer.

The pilot’s crazed maneuvers could only do so much for evasion. The final enemy was spewing quite the plasma torrent at them, unrelenting in their hunt. One round clipped the patrol ship on the bow. It lurched forward, and sat dazed in the Arxur’s sights. My crew’s efforts to rouse the railgun gained a new sense of urgency.

The reptilians rounded on our former allies, salivating to deliver the finishing blow. The Venlil were wounded further by a clean hit to the propulsion system. The drive-plume flickered out, and the patrol ship laid paralyzed. Without mobility, a vessel was a floating tomb. The pilot’s fire had ceased too; there was no telling if they had lost weapons, or if it meant the worst.

A surge of relief flooded my chest, as our weapons flashed back online. There wasn’t a second to spare, or any margin for error; the crew scrambled to unleash our hellfire. An energy lance penetrated the night sky, and I prayed that it would arrive in time. While the Venlil were traitors, I preferred them to the affront to sapience known as the Arxur.

Our railgun strike pierced the Arxur’s shell, splicing them clean in half. With its dying breath, the predators discharged a barrage of plasma; a parting gift for their quarry. There was nothing we could do to intervene. All eyes turned to the unfolding scene with collective horror. The Venlil craft was idle, dead in the waters.

The fireballs bore down on the cruiser, one after the other, closing the distance in a blur. Somehow, our sensors didn’t record a direct impact. The blistering shots shaved its hull, straying wide by a hair's breath. I imagine the occupants could all but smell the smoke.

Talk about a near miss, I mused. The railgun must’ve jolted the Arxur just enough.

Cheers echoed through the bridge, though the celebration was premature to me. The Venlil ship sustained serious damage, and wasn’t showing any signs of activity.

“Venlil ship, do you copy?” I asked over the comms frequency. “We can send medical assistance if needed.”

There was silence. My opportunism flickered back to life, as I remembered the purpose of our foray. Nobody had communicated with anyone inside Republic borders for weeks. This was the perfect opportunity to force the Venlil to talk; to discover the truth behind their reclusiveness. We could start by asking some questions about the mysterious visitors.

“If you can hear me, Venlil ship, you are now in the custody of the Galactic Federation. Any attempt to flee will be met with extreme force, as will any efforts at resistance.” I paused, making sure to emphasize my last words. “Prepare to be boarded.”

*************************************************************************

9. Memory transcription subject: Captain Sovlin, Federation Fleet Command

Date [standardized human time]: August 21, 2136

A contingent of Federation soldiers blasted into the patrol ship, keen to unravel its secrets. I was relieved that the Venlil opted not to barricade the main hatch. With their recent obstinance, I figured they’d make our entry a drawn-out process.

There were five others beside myself, a crowd for the tiny ship. It took a few moments for my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. There didn’t appear to be substantial damage to the ship’s interior, but I didn't hear any vocalization from the occupants. It became a priority to locate the passengers, and determine if they needed medical attention.

I spotted a Venlil slumped in the rear seat, with blood dripping down his forehead. Judging by the wound’s location, his head was tossed into the ship frame during one of the Arxur’s strikes. It was possible he had been knocked out prior, from fear or shock. Those injuries required extensive treatment, if it was severe enough for him to remain unconscious.

The sound of heavy breathing drew my attention, and my eyes darted toward the pilot’s chair. The creature’s form was mostly void of fur, if the bits of pinkish skin that peeked through its garments were an indicator. The sole hair clump was a mop of red fuzz on its head, which cut off near its neck line. With its back to us, I couldn’t make out any more about its features.

Was this the species that docked at the station earlier? It didn’t look like any lifeform I’d stumbled across in my travels, so that ruled out it being a Federation member.

Something about it made my skin crawl. Maybe it was just the lack of hair that made it look freakish? Its skin looked soft, lacking any sort of natural armor or defenses. Its stature wasn’t impressive either; only a touch taller than myself.

“What are you?” I growled.

“Uh, I’m Marcel. Just a guy. Nice to meet you?” he offered. “Please, um, help Slanek. He’s injured.”

I sighed in irritation. “Fine. But why the fuck weren’t you answering our hails? We almost blasted you out of the sky.”

“I didn’t know how to use the comms system. My buddy was unconscious, er, in shock I think.” Marcel’s voice was low and breathy; he seemed to be hyperventilating. “This is my first time flying one of these.”

“You’d never flown one of these ships before? And you fly like that?”

“Like what?”

“Never mind. Turn around and come with us.”

“I can’t do that.”

How dense could a person be? This was not a negotiation. These two were in no position to argue with us. My boarding notification was explicit enough in stating that they were our prisoners, not our guests. My attempts to be sensitive, and not wave guns around the second we stepped in, clearly hadn’t paid dividends.

“Marcel, I wasn’t asking,” I hissed. “If you expect us to help your friend, you better comply.”

“Let’s just talk for a moment, okay?” The peculiar pilot raised his hands over his head slowly, but kept his head pointed toward the viewport. “L-listen, I’m not your enemy. I don’t want you to shoot me. I don’t want to hurt you…or whatever it is you all say.”

“You think you could hurt us? You are surrounded and alone.”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m just…not like the Arxur. We’re on the same team, okay?”

“What is this nonsense? Your rambling is madness. Don’t tell me you’re going into shock too?”

Marcel drew a shaky breath, and turned his head slowly toward us. The crewmate nearest to him staggered backward, reaching for her sidearm. She tripped over the lifeless Slanek in her retreat, and discharged her weapon in a panic. The round ended up buried in the ceiling, punching a hole in the already-battered ship.

Firing plasma guns, and demonstrating reckless trigger discipline, in a contained spaceship?! The damn thing was venting atmosphere as we spoke. The crewmate earned a scorching glare from me; I was appalled with her behavior.

“WHAT HAS GOTTEN INTO YOU?” I screeched. “Holster your weapon at once. I’ll have you disciplined for your—”

“Captain Sovlin…” another crewmate interrupted in a squeaky whisper. “L-look. It’s one of them.”

My gaze flitted back over to Marcel. Shock stabbed at my heart; my insides twisted into knots. The pilot sported binocular vision, just like the Arxur. A cruel intelligence glistened through his beady eyes, even as he tried to avert them. Every time he directed his gaze at someone, it felt like they were being tracked. His inky pupils were no more than dilated pools of hunger.

The pieces fell together, as I gaped at Marcel dumbfounded. A feral hunter on a Republic ship could only mean one thing. The Venlil home world was occupied by an army of predators, and in all likelihood, their species was enslaved. These beasts must be the reason for that distress signal a few weeks ago.

Perhaps I owed the Venlil an apology, since I had misjudged them so terribly. The tragedy they endured was unspeakable.

The monsters probably threatened to kill their entire populace if they tried anything, which was why Tarva betrayed us. Her decision-making was still terrible, but something I could forgive. Chasing the Federation armada off under duress was different to abandoning her friends.

The resentment festering inside of me dissipated in an instant, replaced by a burning hatred. We had never gotten our paws on one of the reptiles, so we’d have to settle for the next best thing. I would not let Marcel’s species follow in the Arxur’s footsteps. I would make them pay for everything they had done, tenfold.

Marcel’s hands trembled, and he closed his eyes. “Guys, I’m just here to fight the Arxur. What they’ve done is despicable, and we would never—”

“QUIET! Get on the ground.” My voice was cold and assertive, as I raised my sidearm at him. “Don’t shoot him, unless he pushes us. I want him alive.”

The predator obeyed, sprawling out prone on the floor. He was lying flat on his stomach, so his eyes were facing the ground. He linked his dexterous digits behind his head, as though to prove he wouldn’t take a swipe at us.

My soldiers gave me an expectant look, waiting for orders. Did they presume I had the answer to everything? There was nothing in the book about predators hiding in plain sight. But if I didn’t take command, there was going to be a total collapse of control. The last thing I wanted was my unit fleeing, and leaving this creature on the loose in our territory.

“Protect Slanek until medical assistance arrives,” I said, gesturing toward the unconscious Venlil. “Get him out of here, and somewhere safe. Be gentle with him when he wakes. Make sure he knows he’s free, and that he never has to see this monster again.”

Marcel stiffened. “Free? Slanek is…”

“Another word and I’ll kill you. Don’t tempt me, freak.”

Summoning my innermost courage, I approached the predator with a pair of restraints. There was no other person I trusted not to freak out, if he twitched or spoke. The creature didn’t move, only sucking in erratic breaths. His submissive behavior was odd, but he could be baiting me within proximity. I needed to keep my wits about me, and stay prepared for a surprise attack.

I knelt down over Marcel’s back, pinning him to the ground with my hind legs. One paw held the barrel of my pistol against his neck, while the other paw reached for his hands. The sensation of my fur brushing his skin made me flinch. I couldn’t snap the manacles around his wrist fast enough.

Behind us, two crewmates crouched by Slanek, shooting glances toward the predator as they did. It was apparent they wanted to get as far away from him as possible. We had to wait for the ship medic to arrive with a stretcher and drugs though. If the Venlil had spinal damage, it was too risky to transport him without professional supervision.

That said, the damn doctor was taking his sweet time arriving. I was the one stuck guarding a novel predator, absorbing the full brunt of the terror. The minutes standing by Marcel seemed to drag; it was agony, even as he remained compliant and silent. Part of me wanted to put a bullet in his brain and be done with it.

“You’re pressing way too hard on the prisoner’s abdomen.” A disapproving voice drifted from the ship’s entrance, earning a relieved sigh from me. Doctor Zarn strode in, scanning the scene. “What is going on here, Captain?”

“Don’t ask. I need a sedative, now,” I replied.

“For a new species? We have no idea which drugs are safe, or how they could interact with its nervous system. I can’t sign onto this.”

I rolled Marcel onto his back, and Zarn’s eyes widened. The doctor dropped his kit to the floor and stood frozen for several seconds. It took a pointed cough from me to snap him out of his stupor. The medic drew a shuddering breath, trying to compose himself. He was quivering as he filled a syringe, and inched toward us like he was on cracked ice.

I extended an arm as far as I could, and snatched the sedative from his outstretched paw. Zarn darted back to a safer distance, muttering several curses. He gave Slanek a brief examination, feeling the vertebrae of his spine. At the doctor’s go-ahead, the soldiers moved the Venlil onto a stretcher.

My eyes shifted back to the predator, whose gaze bore directly up into my skull. Turning him over for the doctor to see might not have been the best idea, since it meant his face was visible again. Well, Marcel wasn’t going to sedate himself, was he?

“Fucking hell. Here goes nothing,” I growled.

I found a large vein in the predator’s neck, and brought the syringe toward it. Marcel shrank back into the floor, possibly mistaking the pointed blade for a weapon. It was doubtful his species had any concept of medicine. With a quick motion, I jabbed the needle into his pale skin.

Marcel winced, and those awful eyes flickered shut. I finally allowed myself to feel my emotions, and doubled over, panting. My gun slipped from my paws; it took everything to bite back a scream. I couldn’t lose my composure in front of the crew.

“Captain. Listen, you’ve had a terrible shock, and the most exposure of anyone,” Doctor Zarn said in a soft tone. “Let your first officer step in. You need to rest. You’re risking cardiac arrest if you push yourself any further.”

“Let Recel call the shots? Over my dead body,” I snorted. “I will be the one to tell Piri, and to move this thing to a holding cell.”

The doctor flicked his ears in disdain. “Yes, it’s a terrible creature. I didn’t think any humans were still alive.”

“Any what?”

“Humans. That’s what it is.”

“We knew about these demons before?!”

“Indeed. You know, the predator race we discovered after the Arxur? The Federation glosses over it, but surely you’ve heard it mentioned.”

“The extinct ones?”

“Clearly not that extinct. We were certain humans killed themselves off, though. The number of explosions on their planet was astronomical. It was a fitting ending for a species that tormented each other, and lived in constant battle.”

“What do you think they’ve done to the Venlil?”

“Humans are conquerors, who derive pleasure from dominating others. That is what their 'explorers' have always done on their homeworld. They are aggressive, brutal, and territorial. Every bit as savage as the grays. You can fill in the blanks, Captain.”

“Dear stars. I should wonder how you know such detail, Doctor. Enough to recognize one.”

“I researched humans for my bioethics thesis.”

“Of course you did,” I said in a derisive tone. “I bet you argued it was worth saving them, because a doctor’s oath is to saving all lives.”

“On the contrary. The Federation developed plans to raze their planet, Earth, which were scrapped after their presumed extinction. My paper argued that some animals are not worth saving; that not all life is equivalent. Killing humanity would’ve been justified for the greater good. It was our moral obligation to follow through, even.”

“I never thought I'd hear those words from you, Zarn. Humans must be irredeemable.” I glowered at Marcel’s lifeless form. My mind was buzzing with thoughts of a fiery raid on this Earth. “Well then, I suppose it’s time to tell Piri we have unfinished business.”

**************************************************************************

10. Memory transcription subject: Governor Tarva of the Venlil Republic

Date [standardized human time]: August 22, 2136

Word of the Arxur attack on our space station reached Venlil Prime via the media first. I suspected the camera crews sent to document the humans’ arrival were able to get a messenger ship out before the confrontation. Details were scarce, but the first duel between predators in space made for flashy headlines.

In all honesty, I was curious how humans would fare against the grays as anyone. I was clinging to some far-fetched hope that they’d swoop in and save the day.

There was no telling whether the station was still standing. Research outposts didn’t have meaningful defenses, since our fiercest protection was assigned to colonies and planets. The humans needed to save their own hide against the Arxur.

Maybe we should’ve hosted the UN delegation on Venlil Prime, but the idea was to assimilate them in increments. Having predators walking the streets, dining in restaurants, and smiling at schoolchildren was a bit much for the public. I felt guilty anyways, for leaving our human friends in a vulnerable location. In trying to shield them, I might’ve gotten them killed.

Terran technology was primitive, and while they excelled at dogfights in atmospheric conditions, I suspected their ships weren’t attuned to space yet. They were in the process of building a new armada from scratch. The craft deployed to the station were there for emergencies, and were little more than prototypes.

There was profound relief when Kam messaged me, stating that he was in orbit along with two UN generals. My military advisor promised a full briefing, and assured me that the station was still standing. I was relieved to hear that there were survivors, but also wondered how the human ships had performed.

“Hi, Tarva!” a predator’s voice pierced my ears.

Noah’s arrival at the governor’s mansion was a welcome sight. I was happy to have a familiar face amidst the stress and confusion. The cheery astronaut was appointed Terran ambassador at my request, and had taken up permanent residence planetside. He never seemed to tire of interviews, or lose patience with our timid behavior.

“Thank you for coming.” I nodded to my friend, suppressing my reaction to his toothy grin. “I’ve never met any human military personnel. It’s as though Meier has been trying to keep them away from me. He calls them ‘snakes in the grass’, whatever that means.”

“Meier is a smart man,” Noah chuckled. “They’re going to try to get you to hand over your ship blueprints, and to take sides in our national disputes. By the way, I strongly advise not doing either. Neutrality is a fine policy.”

I flicked my ears. “What disputes? Don’t you all get along now?”

“Ha. We never get along, Tarva. We just get along with the Arxur less.”

“Why can’t you make peace? That whole ‘predator’s instinct for aggression’ thing?”

“I guess.”

“You’re smart. You must realize it’s not advantageous to your species to fight.”

“We know that. But we are what we are. I’m sorry if it frightens you.”

General Kam entered the reception hall, halting our conversation. The military advisor looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Two humans trailed after him, sporting uniforms with flashy colors. If memory served me right, the one in the light blue was from the US Space Force, while the red attire designated China’s Strategic Support Force.

It was tough to remember all the factions of such a disunited species. There were hundreds of governments on Earth, each with their own culture and leadership. One of the most embarrassing incidents was when I sent thanks to Austria for supplies rendered by Australia, though both nations seemed to find the mix-up humorous.

Ever since then, I’d tried to stick to speaking with Secretary-General Meier and his office. The Venlil wanted an alliance with the entire species, not to juggle rival tribes.

“Glad to see you, Governor. General Jones and General Zhao,” Kam paused, gesturing to the two respective humans. “…have prepared a simulation of the battle for us. You’ll find their strategies, er, most intriguing.”

“Intriguing?”

General Zhao shrugged. “A win is a win.”

What did that mean? Had our predators used some cheap tactics against the Arxur?

I ushered the entourage into a conference room, making sure to keep Noah between myself and them. It was all I could do not to openly stare at the human militants. They didn’t look as imposing or feral as Meier’s diplomats would have us believe. I half-expected them to be marred with battle scars, or baring their fangs at everyone they passed.

Kam fiddled with the holo-projector, syncing the Terran devices with ours. A shimmering recreation blinked up over the central table, and I studied it with nervous anticipation. This would be our first insight into how human warfare truly worked.

“There we go,” General Jones said. “I feel obligated to note those ships are American designs.”

Zhao rolled his predator eyes, a display that looked most unnatural. “You had to slip that in, didn’t you? They used our weapons modifications. The most important part of any system is the firepower. Wouldn’t you agree, Tarva?”

“Uh, well, uh…would you mind if we watch the simulation, before I offer my opinion?” I answered in a sheepish voice. “I wouldn’t want to speak in ignorance.”

Noah smirked, shooting me a knowing glance. The ambassador’s warning proved at least half-correct, but I thought I’d done a decent job deflecting the question. Motion activated on the projector, and the visual representation sprung to life. Computer data and analysis augmented the view of the battlefield.

Six Arxur bombers barreled down on the outpost, opposed by a wall of human ships. The Terran fleet was comprised of tiny one-seater ships, whose only asset appeared to be speed. The humans outnumbered the reptiles by an order of twenty-to-one, according to the computer. Sheer numbers didn’t matter when their primitive weapons were ineffectual against the grays.

The UN had to have something else up their sleeves, if the station survived, I thought.

Our allies swarmed the Arxur with blinding mobility. Plasma and kinetics rained on the grays’ position, and the enemy struggled to lock down the pesky targets. They began shooting in all directions, as that was the surefire way to connect with something. Terran indicators blinked out by the dozens, which earned a wince from me.

Undeterred, the humans pressed on toward their deaths. The Arxur craft had sustained minor damage, but were mostly unscathed. There was no sign of any backup or reinforcements; no grand trick or ambush. I expected more complex tactics from an intelligent predator.

The humans flew practically on top of the Arxur, making it impossible for them to use their railguns. The reptiles switched over to kinetic weapons, and carved swaths through the Terran ranks with precision. The bombers then broke off toward the station, disregarding the puny fighters. The humans were not worthy of attention.

Even to me, these UN ships are a joke. This is the species that was supposed to save us? I mused. They sent their pilots to a slaughter. Blind aggression isn’t enough.

It was the second the Arxur lost interest that the primates pounced. There were only 52 friendly vessels remaining, but they acted in harmony. The humans discharged heat-seeking missiles, so close that they were caught up in the explosions themselves. From those ranges, the grays had no chance to activate their interceptors.

It seemed the humans had finally drawn blood. Two enemy indicators flickered out, but four weathered the storm. By comparison, 23 more UN ships had gone down to their own blasts. Losing every “fighter” wasn’t going to prove a point. It was time to order a retreat, before there were no forces left.

Instead, the primates violated all laws of self-preservation. The Terrans formed a barricade in the Arxur's path, trying to intercept their fire. Their railguns chewed through the fighters with ease, and whittled their numbers down to a dozen. The humans were backed into a corner; unlike us, they would not flee. They saw that the station was about to take fire, and rushed forward in a predatory frenzy.

The last Terran ammunition was dispensed; they were drained dry, with no options to fight on. Several captains made the spontaneous decision to hurl the last scraps of their fighters into Arxur ranks. What kind of species used their ships as missiles? How could their impulse be to sacrifice their own lives?

In the wake of the humans’ earlier battering, the reptiles proved unable to withstand multiple drive explosions. The handful of remaining fighters sat defiantly, almost daring any Arxur ships to emerge from the smoke. The simulation froze, as it reached the end of the data input.

"We suffered heavy losses. If only our drone program was ready for deployment. That would be a game changer. At least we know now, the Arxur can be taken down," General Jones said.

“There were no Venlil casualties. We destroyed the grays before they reached the station,” General Zhao concluded.

I glanced away in horror. Only three UN vessels remained from the original allotment. The humans sacrificed ships numbering in the three digits to stop the Arxur. That could hardly be considered a victory.

How could predators develop vessels that were that much weaker than their counterparts? That loss ratio was unacceptable in a long-term war.

“There is a small point of concern, Governor.” Jones paused, waiting for me to focus on her. “A Venlil patrol ship went missing in Federation territory, with a human on board. In the hours since, the Gojids have started to mobilize along the border.”

“We believe the ship may have been captured, which would mean the Feds are now aware of us,” Zhao added. “The only positive is that unless the hostages told them, they don’t know where Earth is. That buys us some time to figure out our next action.”

My blood ran cold as ice. The Federation possessed the exact location of Earth. While the humans were advised that they might be killed on sight, I hadn’t disclosed the specifics of our history. There was no telling how a predatory species might retaliate to a plot for their extinction.

That said, I couldn’t bear to see them blindsided by a pre-emptive strike. The time had come where I had to divulge the full extent of the Federation’s hatred.

“Well, maybe we should speak to them,” Noah chimed in. “I’m not sure we shouldn’t have from the start. The Arxur are a sample size of one. The aliens have no experience with humans, or any other predators. If Tarva vouches for us, they might come around.”

I stood up from my chair. “I doubt that. They’ll hate you.”

The Terran ambassador frowned. “If you can accept us, why can’t they? How do you know that the Federation will try to kill us, just because we’re predators?

“I just do.”

Noah crossed his arms. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

“I…I need a word with the Ambassador. Alone.”

“No, I think we all should hear this.” General Zhao’s posture was stiff as a board, as though he’d sensed something off. “Whatever pertains to our safety concerns everyone in this room.”

“Well, it’s because…”

Noah tilted his head inquisitively. Worry sparkled in his brown eyes, as he noticed me shying away from him. I wondered if even he could forgive me for such a grave omission, for the betrayal of his trust.

“Because they tried to kill the last predators they found.” I slumped my shoulders in defeat, avoiding his gaze. “I didn’t want to tell you.”

“You’re saying they killed another predator species before?” the ambassador asked.

“No. There are only two.”

“Then…”

“The Federation knew about humans and Earth a long time ago. The vote to glass your planet was unanimous, after footage of your world wars became public.”

General Jones’ eyes narrowed to slits. “Unanimous. That includes the Venlil?”

“Yes. Before my time but…yes. They…we were meticulous in our planning. We believed we couldn’t fail.”

“Wow.” Hurt flashed in Noah’s gaze, though the human quickly blinked it away. “Alright. Um, what stopped them?”

“The Federation thought you were dead. Something about hundreds of nuclear explosions, right after those world wars ended. I myself wonder what that was.”

“Testing. There were countless nuclear tests in that era, in unpopulated areas, might I add,” Noah muttered.

“I see. At any rate, that’s how we knew exactly what you were, and where you were from. Before your ship ever hailed us. The Federation will recognize what the captive is, and find Earth’s location on a star chart.”

Jones’ eyes were icy. “You didn’t think this was something we needed to know, Tarva?”

“Yeah. Why are you telling us now?” Zhao spat.

I shrank back under the predators’ withering gaze. While their anger was justified, it rendered me unable to form a response. Open hostility was not something my instincts processed well; not when they were eyeing me up like their next meal.

“The Governor didn’t want us to have cause to attack the Federation,” Noah said, leaping to my defense. “They are her friends, no matter how unjust they are. Besides, she’s only known us for a month.”

Kam cleared his throat. “It’s little consolation, but the Federation means well. Truly.”

“Well-meaning or not, they want to kill us. We have to make difficult choices,” Jones growled. “Earth must be protected at all costs. I don’t think Tarva wants to see that side of us.”

“I will s-support you all, no matter what you choose,” I stammered. “I don’t want humanity to die. If you evacuate people from Earth, they will be welcome in our territory. And though I have no right to ask, I beg you to show the Federation mercy.”

The human generals did not respond aloud, but their expressions conveyed a simmering rage. As Noah once told me, the concept of karma was close to their hearts. I suspected any Terran mercy was dependent on the Federation’s next actions.

The galaxy’s prejudice could become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

*********************************************************

11. Memory transcription subject: Slanek, Venlil Space Corps

Date [standardized human time]: August 30, 2136

The glow of artificial lighting was the first thing that met my eyes. I stared at the unfamiliar surroundings in confusion, trying to recall where I was.

This doesn’t seem right. How did I get here?

Someone had cocooned me in a blanket, which insulated me from the drafty room. There was light pressure by my ears, perhaps from some sort of bandage. Pain pulsed in my temple, dulled by a painkiller. Snippets of shapes lingered in my memory, but there was nothing concrete. I think I had been drifting in and out of consciousness for days.

My brain concluded that this was a hospital, which meant I was recovering from a serious injury. My addled state suggested the damage was concentrated on the head.

Gritting my teeth, I tried to think of the last thing I could remember. Two Arxur bombers were chasing my spacecraft, and after that, everything got fuzzy. How was I still alive? It had seemed to be a hopeless scenario. There was a grim certainty that they would catch a small ship, sooner or later.

There were vague recollections of being paralyzed in fear, plastered against the seat. The person flying was screaming my name, and had the most visceral look on their predator…

I snapped upright. Marcel! Where is Marcel? What happened to him?

“Easy. Calm down.” A gentle voice came from my right. A Takkan male was seated beside my bed, keeping an eye on my vitals. “You’re safe now. I’m Doctor Zarn. You’re in the medical bay of a Federation warship.”

“The Federation?” My heart rate spiked, which Zarn seemed to notice. “Why are you involved?”

“Well…your craft came into our territory, so we took out the Arxur. It was fortunate that the grays crippled your ship first. If they didn’t, our boarding party wouldn’t—”

“Where is Marcel?” I blurted.

The rush of panic was best described as gasoline lacing through my insides. It was not safe for him to encounter unprepared aliens alone, when his appearance was so jarring. My mind leapt to the worst-case scenario. Had the Federation killed the human on sight? All I could picture was myself, standing over his corpse.

The doctor patted my arm. “He’s not here. Rest easy, he’s not a threat.”

“He’s alive,” I exhaled. “Please, take me to him.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I need to see him. I won’t be able to function if I don’t.”

I staggered to my feet, but wobbled when I tried to walk. Zarn caught me with a grunt, setting me back on the bed. Sympathy flashed in his amber eyes, as if he sensed my desperation. The doctor retrieved a wheelchair from the storage closet, and eased me into it.

“Captain Sovlin is going to kill me, but if that’s really what you need to heal…then alright,” Zarn grumbled.

The Takkan doctor pushed me into a hallway, steering us past maintenance rooms and lounges. My concern intensified as I received pitying stares from the crewmates we passed. It reminded me of the look people had when they learned a species’ homeworld had been destroyed by the Arxur. Had the Federation assumed that humans attacked Venlil Prime?

Oh God, how long have I been out? They would at least hear Marcel out, right? They’re rational people, I tried to convince myself. I need to back up his story, before something terrible happens. I have to speak to their captain at once.

A pair of automatic doors creaked open, and Zarn rolled me into an observation room. A throng of officers stood by a glass pane, which provided a view to the holding cell. They seemed to be pointing to a spot in the corner. From their whispers, I caught the words “non-responsive” and “hungry.”

My blood turned to ice as I realized what the tan mass in the nook was. Marcel was curled up in a ball, hugging his knees to his chest. The human was shaking from head-to-toe, and looked gaunt enough to hardly be recognizable. His coverings had been removed, leaving his form exposed and barren. His face was buried in the wall, so I could only see the purple bruises lining his spine.

A desperate scream poured from my mouth, high-pitched and agonized. I flung myself toward the window, crawling on all fours. The sounds of the doctor trying to pacify me and the bewildered shouts of the captain registered, but I drowned them out.

“MARCEL!” I shrieked.

Pain laced through my vocal cords from the volume, but I hardly felt it. The human lifted his head, craning his neck toward the glass. The moment his face became visible, I gasped in horror.

Clawmarks traced down his right cheek, deep gashes. Marcel hadn’t even bothered to clean off the dried blood, perhaps losing the ability to care. The sockets around his hazel eyes were puffy and bruised; the left one was severe enough to be swollen shut. To add insult to injury, a thick metal band was clasped around his neck, restricting his airway.

The human rose on weak legs, but stumbled to the glass. His gaze locked on me, and his lips curved up slightly. The band on his neck crackled with electricity seconds later. With a yelp, the predator collapsed in a heap. One of the officers must have triggered the shock, as a form of punitive control. My heart twisted, watching my friend racked with pain.

I snarled toward the Federation posse. “Stop that!”

The one I believed was Captain Sovlin blinked in confusion. “It’s snarling at you.”

“That’s how humans show happiness. They don’t have tails or moveable ears,” I growled.

The electric current ceased, to my relief. Marcel languished on the floor, clutching his throat. The skin beneath the collar looked red, as though the human had been zapped repeatedly. I was amazed that he found the strength to answer my call the first time.

“Marcel,” I repeated.

The predator struggled to a kneeling position, and pressed a splayed hand against the glass. The Federation officers backed away, like they thought he could reach through a solid object. Tears welled in my eyes; the poor guy was struggling with such simple motions. I met his gaze, and placed my own paw opposite his palm.

“Slanek,” Marcel croaked. “I am h-happy…you’re okay. I was worried.”

I pinned my ears against my head with concern. The human’s voice sounded weak and feeble. I could only imagine how much he was hurting, looking at the wounds all over his body. By my estimation, they weren’t feeding him either; the Federation was letting him endure a slow death by starvation.

I sniffled, wiping a tear off my face. “I am so sorry, Marc. It was my job to protect you, and I failed. I left you all alone.”

“Don’t cry. P-please. It’s not your fault,” the human murmured.

Doctor Zarn seemed floored by our exchange, as though he didn’t understand what was happening. A paw grasped at my scruff and dragged me away from the glass. I reared on my assailant, flexing my claws as best as I could. There was no chance I was letting anyone take me away from the human.

“What is wrong with you, Slanek?” Captain Sovlin set me down in the hallway, deflecting an attempted swing. “You’re crying over a vicious, sadistic predator. A human!”

“What is wrong with me?” The veins in my eyes bulged, as white-hot fury coursed through my blood. “How could you do this to him? Marcel is my friend.”

“I thought you’d be more grateful, being liberated. A species that enslaves and exploits you are not your friends. I can’t believe I have to say that.”

“We aren’t enslaved. We’re partners with them, willingly.”

Sovlin recoiled. “I’m sorry, what?!”

“A science vessel made contact with us. After speaking with them, we couldn’t let you chase their trail. We knew this is what you fuckers would do, to an innocent species that came in peace.”

“I…I refuse to believe that. The distress signal…their history…well, just look at them!” he spat, spines bristling. “The Venlil wouldn’t betray the Federation. Not for their kind. Do you have any idea which species you’re dealing with?”

“We do. Venlil scientists did tests that prove that humans feel empathy. They are kind and gentle. Marcel is kind and gentle.”

“Kind and gentle? As if. I can think of a quick way to sober you up.” The captain’s voice was low with anger. “Marcel hasn’t eaten in days. Let’s see how gentle he really is!”

Sovlin grabbed me by the scruff again, and marched back into the observation room. He opened the door to the holding cell, flinging me inside with disdain. Zarn shouted at him to stop, once it was obvious what the intention was. The doctor tried to remind him that I had a head injury, not to mention being under the influence of painkillers. The rough officer ignored him, and clicked the door shut behind me.

A brief tinge of fear crossed my mind. I knew Marcel didn’t want to eat me, but this might be pushing his instincts. When his options were starving to death or gnawing at my bones, there had to be some temptation.

The human glanced at me, surprised at my involuntary entrance. Russet hair sprouted along his jawline, which gave him a rougher look than I was used to. He approached cautiously, and watched me with sad eyes. Seeing that I didn’t back away, he settled down beside me. This was the closest we’d ever been, which made the discoloration around his left eye all the more noticeable.

“What happened to your eye?” I managed.

“S-sovlin was tired of looking at me. Said next time, he’d do it with claws out, and then…” The human gestured to the gash on his cheek. “It’s everything I do, Slanek. They hate my existence.”

I reached out with a shaking paw, tracing the wound. “Does it hurt?”

Keep going with the stupid questions, Slanek. Bravo. You’re really making him feel better.

Marcel nodded. “Everywhere.”

The fissure inside my chest widened; the way his voice cracked with that word was heartbreaking. The human lowered his head into his hands, and defeat radiated through his posture. I couldn’t bear to see the sharp, considerate Marcel reduced to this.

“I’m going to get you out of here. I promise,” I whimpered.

“My friend…don’t make promises…you can’t keep…” the human coughed.

My paws tugged the predator closer to me, before I realized I had done it. Marcel’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he didn’t try to pull away. He rested his head on my stomach, and tried to absorb some of my body warmth. I petted his hair with a tentative paw, humming soothingly. His oily mane was softer than I expected it to be, except for the strands that were crusted by dried blood.

The human closed his hunter eyes, relaxing into my arms. A more peaceful expression settled onto his face, and I observed him with fondness. Sovlin was right; I saw exactly how gentle Marcel was. With his bruised skull cradled in my lap and his shivering body snuggled up against me, he seemed so frail and innocent.

“But I will get you out of here. Because you are my brother. My best friend,” I whispered. “And I love you.”

I thought Marcel didn’t hear me, because there was no reaction or response. It wasn’t until I saw a tear trickle down his cheek that I realized he had. The human reached up with a feeble hand, and brought my paw over his chest. The steady beat of his heart ebbed into my toes, warm and rhythmic.

At the glass pane, the Federation officers gawked at the affectionate scene between a predator and its prey.

*******************************************************************

12. Memory transcription subject: Slanek, Venlil Space Corps

Date [standardized human time]: August 31, 2136

I don’t remember drifting off, but it was incredible that my instincts allowed it. There was no greater state of helplessness than during slumber, between diminished awareness and an inability to react to threats. I wonder if Marcel understood how deep of a display of trust it was, that I could fall asleep in his presence at all.

The human had stirred by the time I awoke, and was crouched in the corner watching me. I swished my tail at the predator, and he smiled in return. It was a sinister display, yet bearable to me because of its intention. As terrible as his physical condition was, the teeth-flashing meant he was in better spirits, and that was all that mattered.

“That head wound must be bad, if you’re willing to go near me now.” The humorous lilt had returned to Marcel’s voice, though it sounded strained. “How are you feeling?”

I pawed at the bandage. “Better. I think I can walk again.”

“Oh dear,” the human sighed. “I didn’t realize you couldn’t move. So that’s why you didn’t run away…and I guess I heard what I needed to hear yesterday. I’ve been delirious. I’m sorry.”

“No. You didn’t mishear a word, and I meant what I said. We’re in this together.”

The sound of his stomach rumbling overshadowed our conversation moments later. The gurgling persisted for several seconds, loud and insistent. Marcel’s expression morphed to embarrassment, and the hint of an apology danced in his eyes. I think he figured it’d make me uncomfortable, but it only jogged my worry for his health. No animal could survive without sustenance.

“Have they fed you at all?” I asked.

The human shook his head. “No.”

“What about water? I’m thirsty myself.”

Marcel pointed to a rusty bucket in the corner, which was about half-full with grayish liquid. The thought of lapping from that filthy container like a wild beast made me nauseous. If more time passed though, there wouldn’t be much choice. I didn’t want to take the only resource the human had, for now.

"Alright. We've got to get out of here," I said. "You think, and I'll think. We'll come up with something."

I glanced toward the glass pane, trying to figure out how to persuade the Federation officers. The captain was absent, which was a small point of relief. The ship doctor appeared to be in a heated discussion with a Kolshian male. Maybe our companionship had given them second thoughts about humans? I swiveled my ears toward them, straining to pick up their words.

Doctor Zarn raised his eye-ridges in disgust. “…more trauma. We should’ve never thrown him in there, Recel.”

“I know,” a silky voice answered. “Captain told me I could spring Slanek once the predator tries something. He just wants to scare some sense into him. Sovlin wouldn’t let it eat a pup, you know.”

“But what if it pounces on him faster than we can activate the shock collar? I can’t undo a broken neck,” Zarn argued. “Slanek needs medical attention, regardless, and I’m not going in there.”

“And what do I tell the captain?”

“Make up a story. Slanek is awake now, and the human is separated from him. This could be our only chance. We can get him to move slowly toward the exit, and fry the predator if it tries anything.”

I glowered at the observation panel. “Fuck you! I’m not going anywhere without Marcel.”

The human squinted in confusion. With his lousy ears, there was no way he could hear their hushed words. The two Federation officers shared a glance, before fixing me with patronizing looks.

“Slanek, you’re not thinking straight,” Recel hissed. “If what you say is true, the Venlil have fallen for a dreadful ruse. These humans just want you to give up our secrets. They’ll discard you as soon as they’ve drained you dry. They are not your friends.”

“That’s rich, coming from the crew that tossed me in a cage, intending for me to be attacked by a predator.”

Recel sighed. “That was Sovlin’s doing. He didn’t consult us.”

“Listen to me, Slanek. That thing is twisting your compassion against you,” Zarn pleaded. “The Arxur allowed us to uplift them, and only then did they attack. I’m sure your, um, Marcel mimics very well, but it’s not real. These humans are just playing along to their benefit.”

“You don’t think any Venlil considered that? The tests we did literally analyzed human brain activity.”

Recel blinked in confusion. “What tests?”

“Sovlin didn’t tell you?” I gasped. “Our experiments recorded how humans respond to violence, and guess what? Their brains lit up with pain. You can’t fake empathy on a biochemical level.”

The two aliens were quiet, as the weight of my revelation sunk in. I recalled my own skepticism when I first learned of the humans’ benevolence. There would always be a little voice in my head, suggesting that they wanted to hunt me. Our entire evolution hinged on avoiding predators; recognizing them as threats on sight. It wasn’t something we could unlearn.

“You’re either misinterpreting the results, or the humans altered them.” The doctor waved a paw dismissively, and eyed Marcel with undisguised loathing. “I can’t listen to this, Slanek. Not from one of our own. Perhaps by the time I get back, the first officer will have snapped some sense into you.”

As his counterpart stormed out in a rage, Recel inspected the human’s behavior with curious eyes. The grizzled veteran seemed to be the only one listening to a word I said. My disclosure seemed to affect him, since he began pacing back and forth. It violated every facet of our moral code, to treat a feeling person with such cruelty. Now was my best chance to persuade him into making Marcel’s situation more livable.

“Marcel needs to eat,” I said, trying to keep my tone calm. “He will starve if he doesn’t.”

“Why should I care?” the officer growled.

“I have no idea how long humans can live without food, but it’s not forever. What use is he to you dead? Also, it’s torture to me to watch him starve. If you won’t do it for his sake, do it for mine.”

Recel waved a grasper in frustration. “Do you really expect me to carve up an animal, and serve its flesh on a platter? Or are you saying you’d be the one to slaughter it for this… predator?”

“Humans can eat plants. In fact, Marcel only consumes vegetation. Please, if you have any decency, I beg you. Give us something. Anything.”

There was a hint of pity in his gaze, as he scanned Marcel’s visible ribs. I could tell he didn’t like seeing any creature suffer, no matter what it was. Recel fished the half-eaten remains of a purple fruit out of the waste bin, wrinkling his nose.

“I…I’m going to put this right at the door. If it so much as takes a step toward me,” the second-in-command waved the collar’s trigger. “This is all I can manage. Sovlin will notice if I take seconds from the rations.”

The door slid open with a loud creak. Recel tossed the fruit inside like it burned to the touch. I scooped it off the floor, trying to push down my revulsion at the bitemarks on its side. In his current state, I think Marcel would eat it even if it was covered in literal shit.

The human snatched the fruit from my paw without a second thought. He tore into it, wolfing it down in ravenous gulps; it was all he could do not to swallow it whole. He slumped back against the wall, quivering, and then proceeded to suck the juice off his grimy fingers.

It wasn’t anywhere close to enough to satiate the human’s appetite, or to provide adequate nutrition. But Recel was the only one to offer him so much as a morsel, so I wasn’t going to complain. Hopefully, it was enough to take the edge off of Marcel’s hunger; to ease a bit of the desperation.

“Thank you so much,” I told the first officer. “It means the world to me.”

“Yes,” Marcel rumbled. “Thank you, Recel. I am appreciative.”

Recel met the predator’s eyes, shuddering from behind the safety of the glass. My guess was that the captain gave orders not to let the human speak. However, I suspected the first officer was curious to see what the prisoner would say, and just how lucid one of his kind could be. A cuddly, furless fruit-eater didn’t seem at all like the bloodthirsty predators the Federation said they were.

“Why would you want to fight the Arxur, human?” the officer asked suddenly. “Is it to claim the galaxy as your own catch? To rid yourself of the competition?”

“The grays kill children. They eat sentients. Is that not enough reason to fight them?” Marcel rubbed the chafed skin under his collar, wincing. “Humans are lonely. We wanted to be your friends, but you all think we’re monsters.”

Recel sighed. “And what do you do to your…friends?”

“We protect them. We stand by them unconditionally. Just as we are loyal to the Venlil now.”

“How can you prove that you aren’t using them as your playthings? You’re telling me your instincts aren’t tempted at all, having a vulnerable creature like Slanek, at your mercy?”

“God no. Humans dote on animals much less cute than him, you know. Look at that adorable face! All I can think about is his safety.”

“Prove it to—”

Captain Sovlin burst into the observation room, staring daggers at his first officer. The root of his exasperation must be walking in on his subordinate, conversing with the predator.

Zarn was tailing close behind, no doubt having informed the boss about my troubling statements. The doctor had a smug look on his face.

“You’re under its spell too?” the brutish Gojid spat. “Clearly, it’s dangerous to let it start talking, if it can entrance you so easily. Anyone alone might succumb to its charm.”

The captain leaned toward Recel, and the Kolshian flinched away from his threatening scowl. Sovlin nabbed the collar’s trigger out of the officer’s tentacle. He looked at me, noting how I backed toward Marcel, and shook his head. His spines stood on edge, fully extended. It made him appear much larger than his true size.

“Get Slanek out of here, Doctor,” the leader spat. “I’ll sign off on the psychological treatments you recommended, and we’ll cure him of this delusion.”

“No!! You can’t take me away,” I snarled.

Sovlin sidled up to the cell door, and waved for me to come to him. The idea of being placed under Federation “treatments” terrified me. What if they convinced me that Marcel was evil, or erased my memories of him? A pitiful whine vibrated in my throat, and I skittered away with my tail between my legs.

The human moved forward to protect me, placing his bony form between me and the captain. How could he be worrying about me still, after all he’d been through?

“I mean it. I won’t come with you. Not willingly!” My voice shook with fear, but I managed to squeak out the words. “Why would I ever want to come with a monster like you?”

“Would you rather watch us dissect your human?” A crazed light flashed into Sovlin's eyes. It was the look of a man who was at the end of his rope. “I think it’s time we open it up. See what makes it tick.”

Terror radiated through my blood at the captain’s chilling threat. Marcel faltered in his protective stance, as he processed what was said too. The Gojid looked him right in the eyes, then jabbed a slender claw on the collar remote. The predator was down in an instant, too weakened to maintain his footing.

Sovlin advanced on his prisoner, and I tried to get in the way. He merely shoved me to the floor with a disgusted grunt.

Zarn took that as his cue to rush inside the cell, and scoop me up in his sturdy arms. Panic filled my psyche, as though it were my own life in the balance. My self-preservation instincts kicked into overdrive, filling me with a burning urge to escape. I tried to writhe out of the doctor’s grasp, to no avail.

My friend's eyes narrowed as he noticed I was gone. He struggled against the pain, propping himself onto his elbows. Sovlin’s face contorted with hatred, and he dealt a kick to the convulsing Marcel’s head. There was a sickening crack, which I recognized as the sound of bone breaking. Blood gushed from his misshapen nose like a fountain, and the human howled in agony. It was a primal cry that made my heart burn in my chest.

The captain was unrelenting in the shock’s administration, electrocuting the predator nonstop. The human’s complexion was turning bright red, and he struggled to breathe. His veins bulged against his pallid skin, and his teeth chattered in his jaw. He rolled onto his back, unable to muster any more fight.

The Gojid lowered a hindleg, right on the spot on Marcel’s ribs with the most bruising. The predator’s scream seemed to satisfy the captain.

“It’s time to end this.” Sovlin drew his sidearm and flicked off the safety. “I should’ve done this at the start, instead of wasting our oxygen prolonging its wretched life.”

Recel gaped in horror, inching out from the observation room. “Sir, we need to keep it alive. At least until we know more.”

“There’s nothing more I need to know. I want it off my ship!” the captain roared.

The first officer closed his eyes, but didn’t act to intervene. The voltage ceased as the Gojid turned his attention to his weapon. Sovlin towered over Marcel, pressing the barrel to the human’s temple. Those hazel eyes I had come to adore stared up helplessly, glassed over from pain.

There was nothing I could do as my predator friend faced his execution.

*******************************************************************

13. Memory transcription subject: Slanek, Venlil Space Corps

Date [standardized human time]: August 31, 2136

The thought of a world without my human was too much to bear. After all we’d been through, he felt like a long-lost brother rather than an alien predator. I would never hear his voice, message him in a chatroom, or fly a spaceship with him again. His life was about to end in a haze of misery, because I was too weak to stop it.

Why had I promised Marcel I would free him from this hell? It was cruel to give him a false sense of hope.

If I had said the right words…if I had woken up sooner, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. What kind of friend am I? A failure.

I thought I had more time to talk the Federation down, since they refrained from killing him this far. There was no reason for the captain to rush to an irreversible decision…though he didn’t seem in a particular hurry now.

Sovlin was savoring the anguish on Marcel’s face, and seemed to be daring him to fight back. He tapped the gun against the predator’s crooked nose, which elicited a cracking sound. He swiftly returned the barrel to the human’s temple, and flashed his teeth. The lack of a reaction disappointed him; Marcel was too out of it to process any more sensation.

The captain sighed, and resolved himself to finish the job. I wanted to make some sort of last-ditch effort, but Zarn had me ensnared in his suffocating grip. The doctor chuckled as he realized the human was about to be terminated. It was that callous glee that spurred me to action.

“NO!” I screamed. “Leave…him…alone!”

I bit Zarn’s arm with force, then thrashed about with my tiny claws. The weighty Takkan restrained me with ease, dragging me further out of the cell. My teeth hadn’t even pierced his thick hide; the efforts wore down my strength more than anything else. The doctor clamped a paw around my mouth, suppressing any other attempts to call out.

I reached out for Marcel desperately. The human made eye contact with me, and tears rolled down his mangled face. Despite the overwhelming pain, he tried to put on a brave smile. The predator was thinking about my feelings, even in his final moments.

Sovlin’s claw drifted toward the trigger, and I averted my eyes. I didn’t want to see Marcel’s brains come out the other side of his head. His beautiful snarl should be the last thing in my memory. That was how I wanted to remember him.

“Lower your weapon, Sovlin, or I’ll put you down with that thing.” Recel’s quavering voice broke the silence, rather than a gunshot. “I can’t watch this anymore. You are behaving just like the Arxur.”

My eyes blinked open to find the first officer, pointing his sidearm at the captain. Several emotions rushed across Sovlin’s face. Most seemed to be a shade of outrage or shock. The Gojid was relishing his assault of the predator, and didn’t appreciate having the finale cut off.

“Recel, there is no intelligence we need from it. Slanek can tell us everything.” Zarn tightened his hold around me, imploring the first officer to stand down. “Its life has no value. It is nothing but a danger to the crew, in the case that it gets loose.”

“It is sapient. That must have some value. No matter how little. Why have you both forgotten that?”

The captain’s lips curled back, revealing his curved molars. “Because they took everything from me. Everything! And now, this monster has the nerve to corrupt my crew. Let me tell you, it is done taking from us. This ends now!”

“But it has done nothing wrong. Look at it; it’s helpless,” Recel hissed. “You’ve beaten it half to death.”

“So you think this human is sweet too?” Sovlin sneered. “It thirsts for blood just like the Arxur do. It is a violent creature at its core, its rotten core. Marcel savors the hunt. If it was honest, it would admit it!”

The only time Marcel ever showed any violent impulses, was after he watched the Arxur torture Venlil children, I thought. The captain isn’t wrong about human bloodlust, but they have reasons to kill. It’s not anger borne from a place of cruelty.

The first officer swallowed nervously. “Are aggression and compassion mutually exclusive? We don’t know. There could be more to the story. If there’s a chance it wanted peace and we kill it, what does that make us?”

“It makes us heroes. I think you’re a damned fool, if you give it the chance to do the exact same thing the Arxur did. Now you’re going to let me protect us, and we’re going to put this incident behind us.”

“How can you be sure you’re right?”

“The Federation wouldn’t have voted to destroy Earth the first time if they weren’t sure, Recel. I trust in the judgment of several hundred species, as should you.”

“Earth?” Marcel groaned. “I never t-told you…”

The captain’s paw twitched around his gun. A shot rang out moments later, and my fur stood on end. Blood spurted through a wound in Sovlin’s thigh, and the crippled leg buckled beneath him. It wasn’t the Gojid who got off the first shot, to my exuberant relief.

Recel tackled the spiky male away from the human. The first officer disarmed his superior, and cast a blank stare at the prisoner. The proximity to Marcel seemed to bother him, though he tried to keep his wits. I was amazed that the Kolshian veteran had intervened. The talk of human neural activity must have instilled some qualms in his mind.

The first officer aimed his gun toward the doctor. If he turned to the tertiary threat, he must be satisfied that Sovlin was restrained and Marcel was incapable of lunging at him. I yelped as I felt a sudden tug around my waist. Zarn was propping me up as a shield, and trying to load a syringe.

“Let the Venlil go, Zarn,” Recel spat. “You don’t want to hurt him.”

“I don’t want to hurt Slanek. But I need to fix him! He’s ill.”

“Release him, now.”

The doctor pressed a needle to my throat, ignoring my whimper. “Or what?”

“Or I remove the human’s collar and we find out.”

The predator was in no condition to move; it was obvious to me that he was on the brink of losing consciousness. I think Recel knew the threat was empty, but it worked like a charm on the doctor. Zarn’s grip slackened, and I slithered out of his arms in a flash. My sprint to Marcel’s side was a blur of elated bliss.

The human yelped as I dove atop his chest, forgetting about the inflamed bruises. He pushed me off of him, with care not to hurt me. Gritting his teeth, he tried to sit up, but didn’t get farther than raising his head. My stomach flipped at the sight of his nose, twisted to the side, with the skin turning a deep purple already.

“Did you tell them?” Marcel croaked.

I tilted my head. “Tell them what?”

“About…Earth. T-they…they’re…going to…”

“No. It’s a long story, but we’ve got to warn your people.”

While my eyes were averted, Recel placed a makeshift gag around Sovlin’s mouth. The captain was squirming, his voice muffled to grunts. The first officer had resorted to pacing back and forth, palming his head in frustration. I assumed he was at a loss for what to do with Marcel.

Intervening to spare the human’s life was simpler than releasing him. At the end of the day, Recel was a frightened Kolshian with a gun. He was the primary obstacle in our path to getting Marcel home. I contemplated an angle of persuasion, since my odds of fighting him unarmed seemed paltry.

If the human dies, why did he shoot his own captain? I thought. Surely he realizes he’s too far in to back out now. He wouldn’t want his treason to be for naught.

“Recel, we’ve got to get Marcel out of here. He needs a doctor,” I pleaded.

“I know. And Zarn would poison the thing as soon as treat it,” Recel sighed. “If there’s billions of these predators out there, I suppose letting this one go isn’t going to make a difference. Even if...ugh, never mind.”

I better not give him time to change his mind. He really sounds like he’s having second thoughts.

I flicked my ears toward Marcel. “How are we going to move him?”

The first officer surveyed the vicinity. His eyes landed on the wheelchair Zarn used for me yesterday. I sensed his hesitancy to retrieve it from the observation room, with Sovlin still grumbling curses and Marcel trying to sit up. The Kolshian tapped me on the shoulder, and pressed the gun into my paws.

“If Sovlin or the predator try anything, shoot them,” Recel growled. “I’ll be gone a few seconds.”

The officer sprinted over to the wheelchair’s resting spot like a predator was chasing him…which I guess he felt like it was. He rolled it back to our location, and almost fell over when Marcel glanced at him.

I considered pointing the gun at Recel, since I didn’t trust him to treat the human like a person. The Kolshian was a bystander to Sovlin’s torture, after all. Even now, he kept referring to Marcel as “it” or “the predator.”

The sole reason I decided against backstabbing him was that I needed help. Recel had saved Marcel’s life, and wasn’t actively trying to hurt him. I didn’t know my way around the ship, so getting out of here was impossible without him. Not to mention that the veteran was stronger, well-adapted to stress, and more adept at combat.

The first officer seemed oblivious to my deliberation, as he stepped away from the wheelchair. He reclaimed his firearm, brandishing it with shaking graspers. I was by far the least threatening entity in the room, to his brain.

“Move the human into the chair, Slanek,” Recel grumbled.

“I can’t. I’m too weak. You have to do it.”

“I don’t want to touch it!”

“Grow up. He won’t bite.”

Recel huffed, but slowly knelt by Marcel. He reached out with a grasper, and hissed in disgust as it touched sweat-soaked skin. His breathing devolved to sporadic gasps, as the fear chemicals became unbearable. When he lifted the predator, I worried his grip might falter. The human shouldn’t be dropped, especially in his current condition.

With eyes the size of moons, Recel deposited my friend into the chair. Marcel yelped from the rough landing. My lip curled up without thinking, an instinctive warning not to hurt the predator.

“Don’t give me that look, Slanek! I’m trying my best,” the first officer spat. “I don’t see you doing anything helpful.”

“I want to help. I’d do anything, really—”

“Gah, I’m sorry. That was harsh. I apologize.” Recel took a deep breath, and positioned himself behind the predator. “This is overwhelming for me, okay? Shit…let’s just get moving.”

Marcel was wheeled out of the cell by the trembling Kolshian, past the watching Zarn. I made eye contact with the doctor during my own exit. A Federation officer, carting a wounded predator away, with a mesmerized Venlil in tow; suffice to say, it wasn’t his desired outcome. The Takkan seemed to be having an aneurysm at the sight of our posse.

“You’re making a big mistake. Humans are sociopaths. Murderers!” Zarn screeched.

Recel pointed at the doctor. “You get in that cell and treat Sovlin. I’d prefer if he doesn’t bleed out.”

The medic bared his teeth at us. He slunk inside with reluctance, and began tending to the captain’s injury with his kit.

Recel pressed a button outside the cell, and the door slid shut. Several clicks indicated that it locked behind us. Clearly, the first officer didn’t want his devious shipmates pursuing us, or tipping us off to the crew. Realization flashed in the doctor’s eyes, and he slammed a paw on the wall in frustration.

“Why didn’t I do that to you all?” Zarn wailed.

Recel snorted, waving a shiny object. “Because I have the key.”

The hint of a smirk played at Marcel’s face, which showed he was still conscious. I was pleased to see him responsive, though I hoped he didn’t start laughing. The last thing we needed was the first officer thinking the human was growling. It was going to be difficult to get a battered predator out unnoticed as things were.

“Recel…aren’t the crew going to wonder why the predator got loose?” I asked. “Won’t they freak out?”

The first officer thought for a moment. He yanked the fire alarm, then pressed a button on his holopad to trigger an evacuation order. An automated message relayed the command to abandon ship, while the overhead sprinklers doused us in cold water.

This guy is smart, I’ll give him that. I thought. Maybe he will be useful.

Nobody would question an officer moving a high-value prisoner under emergency procedures. In his current state, Marcel appeared sedated, so that might limit panic too.

Giddiness abounded in my mind at the thought of freedom. Returning home with my best friend might have been a trip to paradise, as far as I was concerned. It felt like we had been given a new lease on life.

With uncertain steps, Recel guided us into the shuttle bay. Several ear-piercing screams were our greeting, once the crewmates detected the half-conscious predator. The way they pointed at Marcel made me seethe. The people nearest to the entrance tripped over themselves in their haste to get away.

The first officer ignored them, pushing Marcel toward an unoccupied shuttle. He carried the human with less overt fright this time. His delicacy as he placed the predator in the back seat surprised me. The fact that he noticed his prior mistake, through the haze of terror, showed a great deal of empathy.

Recel clicked the harness over Marcel’s withered chest, which was forcing out shallow breaths. The Kolshian felt the human’s pulse; the concern in his eyes reignited my own worries. The heartbeat must have been rapid or erratic.

The first officer found a blanket under the seat, and draped it over the predator’s barren form. It was undeniably a kind gesture. Recel seemed to care; whether he would admit it was another question. As reluctant as I was to forgive the officer for his role in Marcel’s abduction, I was worried about what would happen to him next. We couldn’t leave the man who saved us behind to hang for treason.

“Come with us.” I jumped into the pilot seat, firing up the launch sequence. “You can’t stay here, Recel. They’ll have you hanged.”

“I’d rather face whatever the Federation has in store for me than live surrounded by humans.” The first officer took a last look at Marcel, blinking rapidly. “But I wish you both well. For the sake of us all, I pray you’re right about this.”

“Please…you don’t have to see the humans. I’m sure the Venlil will take care of you, and we can put you somewhere far away from them.”

For Marcel’s sake, we have to dock at the outpost…assuming it’s still there, I thought. I’m not sure how the humans would react to Recel’s presence, but we can cross that bridge when we get to it.

“But that’s not the point. I deserve to hang, Slanek!” The officer’s composure crumbled, and he buried his face in his tentacles. “I don’t know what came over me back there. I’m a traitor.”

“You stopped a murder. And now, this is our only chance to stop a genocide. If Earth is attacked, there will be no chance of peace. Not now, maybe not ever. The fate of the Federation hinges on what we do. Are you really going to sit that out?”

Recel stepped off the craft, a torn look on his face. He stood motionless and pondered my words. No wise veteran wanted another predatory enemy. That would ensure that the Federation lost the war.

With a reluctant sigh, the first officer clambered back onto the ship. He squeezed into the back seat beside Marcel, leaning away from him. Regret was already etched on the Kolshian’s gelatinous features.

I suspected this would be a long ride for our Federation savior.

***********************************************************

14. Memory transcription subject: Governor Tarva of the Venlil Republic

Date [standardized human time]: September 1, 2136

My visit to the research outpost was intended to last half a day. At my request, Cheln, my diplomatic advisor, had crafted a speech to show our solidarity with the UN. The whole afternoon was a joint ceremony in remembrance of the humans who sacrificed their lives in our defense.

At the end of it, I would send off the predators who partook in our first civilian encounter. The volunteers of “Doctors Without Borders” and “The Red Cross” would board the initial outbound ship, with their Venlil partners in tow. It was time for humans to receive a proper integration into our society, and that meant moving planetside.

That was a less concerning prospect than it would’ve been before our experiments. There were zero reports of human-on-Venlil violence during the past 10 days. Most of the complaints against the Terrans involved the predators trying to stroke our curly fur, which I found bewildering. That wasn’t behavior I saw them exhibit with each other, so it couldn’t be written off as a social custom. Perhaps a display of possessiveness?

But overall, the trial of our species living together was a pleasant success; more so than any scientists predicted. The predators had an uncanny ability to bond with anything, and that allowed them to forge close connections within days. My mind defaulted to thinking of Noah and Sara as part of my in-group, at this point. I never could’ve imagined, when this all started, that I would look forward to seeing them as I did now.

“So they’re alive. Do you think they’ll have good news?” Sara asked.

The ceremony had come to an abrupt halt, when General Kam informed the UN delegation of a pressing development. A Federation shuttle barged into Venlil territory, and raised a series of alarms. Its pilot claimed to be the missing patrolman Slanek. He kept repeating that his human companion needed medical attention, in a hysterical voice.

I would’ve kept it on the down low until we knew more, but Secretary-General Meier wanted everyone aware of the situation. He believed that if the change of plans wasn’t explained, rumors would spread that the Arxur were attacking.

The UN leader’s presence was unexpected. We had never met in person, or spoken beyond video messages. But it seemed when Ambassador Noah told him of my plans, he wished to attend the memorial firsthand.

Many humans flocked to the docking port as the news dispersed; everyone on the station was eager to welcome the arrivals. The crowd numbered several hundred, once Venlil were added to the count. Terran paramedics were on stand-by, and the media were swarming to report any developments.

I knew why the predators wanted to see the state of the captives. They were trying to decide if the Federation was an enemy. In the wake of my shocking admission, they wanted to know if co-existence was even possible. This was a good sign, if the Federation military were civilized enough to hear a predator out, and set it free.

“I’m hopeful, guys.” I swished my tail reassuringly. “If the Federation let your ‘Marcel’ fellow go, maybe I was wrong. Maybe they can see you for the sensitive and wonderful species you really are.”

“I greenlit the plan for a pre-emptive strike days ago.” Meier’s voice was slow and gravelly, flowing with a practiced cadence. “The generals suggested that we needed to hit the key Gojid launchpoints. I have no way of recalling our bombers, even if I want to.”

“Damn it all!” Noah cursed. “I knew we were too hasty. The Federation will see this as an unprovoked attack. We’re going to ruin all chances of peace.”

I patted the Ambassador on the shoulder, hoping to quell his emotions. His brown eyes softened, and he gave me an appreciative nod. There was no sense in lamenting what was already set in stone. All we could do now was address the consequences together.

Proximity alarms shrieked, as our sensors detected an unknown vessel within bombing range. The UN generals switched them off, then granted permission for the inbound ship to dock. A few Terran soldiers lingered near their officers with assault rifles, in case of a trap. Their paranoia and suspicion had soared to new heights, since they learned the galaxy wanted to kill them.

I didn’t have the heart to tell them that such deception was a predator’s tactic. Playing at empathy would never be the Federation’s modus operandi.

The exterior airlock creaked open, and a Federation shuttle descended from the inky backdrop. It followed the station’s landing beacon to glide through the opening, and mounted its footings into the docking port with surgical precision. The craft wasn’t big enough to fit more than four individuals, and that was if they stacked on top of each other. The soldiers relaxed, satisfied that an ambush force was ruled out.

It only took a few seconds for the port to repressurize, but I could sense the humans’ restlessness. Anxious murmurs cycled through the crowd. Waiting, on the cusp of certainty, fueled the darker side of their imagination. The partition between the reception area and the dock receded, once the sensors determined it was safe.

A silver-gray Venlil poked his head from the spacecraft, which drew a few cheers from our people. A bandage wound its way around his ears, tying down the lone black tuft of hair on his forehead. The wrappings were soaked through with rich, orange fluid. That fresh bleeding suggested he needed medical attention himself.

The human paramedics exchanged looks, as there was no sign of their man. They shouldered their way past the Venlil. I could only see their backs, but they seemed to stiffen as they laid eyes on the interior. What had they seen that we had not? How severe were the human’s injuries?

The predators toted a stretcher inside, and summoned a gurney to wait by the ship. Loud calls thundered above the chatter to clear a path. That meant Marcel was alive, but I had to wonder why he couldn’t walk out under his own power. It also raised the question of how he incurred such a condition in the first place.

Sara pressed a hand to her mouth. “My God. What have they done?”

“I…I am more grateful to you than ever, Tarva,” Noah breathed, shaken to the core. “I should’ve never questioned your decision. I see now what you saved us from.”

Similar cries erupted from the onlookers, as the paramedics emerged with the captured human. Marcel’s malnourishment was apparent at first glance. His skin hugged his bones tightly, and his stomach was a flat depression beneath his ribcage. I wasn’t sure if it was the starvation, or the vicious injuries, that caused his breathing to sound so strained.

The poor guy’s face was mashed to a pulp, bruised and bloodied. Whoever beat the human seemed to take particular offense to his binocular eyes. The way the sockets were turning black made my stomach flip. A metal band was fitted to his neck, and the skin beneath was marred with minor burns. Why was that choker still on him? Nobody had taken it off?

The Venlil almost seemed more incensed than the humans. The thought of the Federation doing that to their buddy sparked a… predatory rage. My own blood boiled at such a grave injustice. Noah was right; that would’ve been him if I allowed it. I was wavering on whether I wanted the humans to show mercy to my old friends after all.

“Stop filming this,” I hissed at our media personnel. “Show some respect.”

Meier crossed his arms. “No, film it. On the condition that you’ll show it everywhere. I want everyone to see this. To document how the Federation treated one of ours. When we declare war on these bastards, I don’t want anyone saying it’s for no reason.”

“Whoa, hold up. If they realized their mistake, and let him go…” Noah whispered. “Maybe they’re sorry, and wish to make amends?”

“They didn’t realize anything!” Slanek’s horizontal pupils snapped toward us, as he overheard the Ambassador’s comment. “The captain was going to kill Marcel, and they’re still planning to bomb Earth.”

“What stopped them from killing him? Did you talk them down?” I asked, in a soft voice.

“I tried, Governor. But they wouldn’t listen! We escaped by the skin of our teeth, because of first officer Recel. He incapacitated the captain, and escorted us off the ship.”

The Secretary-General frowned. “What happened to this Recel?”

“I brought him with us, sir. He’s on the ship…I can’t get him to come out. This isn’t, er, exactly what I promised him.”

My ears swiveled toward the shuttle. I thought I could detect the sound of terrified whines, amidst the commotion. Meier looked like he wanted to retrieve the first officer himself, and was about to start in that direction. Though the gray-haired human didn’t exude hostility, I feared he might escalate Recel’s emotions to a blinding panic.

“Let me handle this,” I said to the humans. “Noah, Sara, you remember how hard it was for us…and there were only two of you.”

Meier glanced at the astronauts, and fell back as their nods affirmed my words. I ducked into the spacecraft to look around.

Huddled beneath the pilot’s chair was a Kolshian male, with a dark blanket over his head. It was a pitiful attempt at camouflage; it would be amusing, at a brighter time. The movement of the fabric, and the outline of his form were obvious giveaways. I imagine the human paramedics noticed Recel, but were too preoccupied with Marcel to coax him out.

Within closer range, the whines sounded more like muffled screams. I clicked my claws on the floor, so Recel would know the approaching person wasn’t a human. The officer peeked out from under his tarp. His bulbous, orange eyes lit up with recognition.

“Governor Tarva!” Recel exclaimed. “You’re…alive?”

“Of course I’m alive. What made you think I wasn’t?!”

“It’s just, er, nobody has actually seen you in months. And this station is infested with predators; I saw them through the window. Lurking, waiting.”

“It’s not infested, and they have good reason to ‘lurk.’ They were curious and worried, and now, they’re rather upset. Hell, I’m upset too.”

“Oh, please help me, Tarva. This is a nightmare, and I’ve done it to myself. I just want to wake up, you know? Get me out of here! Please.”

“Calm down. Everything is alright now. Tell me, what is it that the humans are doing that’s bothering you?”

“Slanek said there were ‘just a couple’, damn it. Two or three, I could tolerate but…looking at all those predators? Pure agony. It feels like my chest is on fire. I don’t know how you bear it.”

“I know exactly how you feel. It will pass.”

“You can’t know that.”

“But I do. How about I introduce you to my first human friend? Just one of them.”

“Just one. Just one, one!” Recel whined, rocking back and forth. “Okay. Just one.”

The Kolshian was clearly on the brink of a nervous breakdown, but I decided to move forward with that tepid affirmation. This guy defied a superior officer, and sacrificed his career to save a human. That wasn’t a risk that someone took without good reason.

There had to be some part of Recel that already accepted the predators’ true nature. It was a matter of getting through to him, of bringing his logical mind back into the equation. Whether it was reason or empathy that struck home, it didn’t make a difference.

“NOAH! Come here,” I called.

The male astronaut hurried in, rushing to my side. “Is everything alright? What’s going on, Tarva?”

“Hm. The first time I saw Noah, I thought he was feral. Can you imagine answering that hail?” I waved a paw in the human’s direction, and Recel shuddered. “All of his teeth were showing, and those murderous eyes were like something out of a nightmare. He looked like the meanest, nastiest creature in the universe.”

The Ambassador sighed. “Ah Governor, you always flatter me.”

“Shush! I’m getting to the important part,” I huffed. “But anyhow, the humans’ words were about peace. There was such a disparity between that appearance and the things they said. My brain couldn’t reconcile it.”

“I’m just saying, Tarva, you could fake the occasional compliment.” Noah shot me a coy smile. I had been around the predators too long if I could differentiate snarls, hadn’t I? “Talk about my winning personality? My exquisite physique? Pretend you liked me?”

“I do like you! Stop fishing! At any rate…there was this collection of little things the humans did that made me think ‘maybe.’ The odd doubt. But looking at them dredged up all my worst memories, so I shut out that voice. I wanted them gone.”

“Then why did you stop Sovlin from g-getting rid of them? What happened?” Recel stammered.

“I teared up just a little, and the first thing Noah did was try to comfort me. I realized that I never gave him a chance. No unfeeling creature would pick up on emotional nuances like they do. That’s when I knew. When did it click for you?”

“It…he…the instant Slanek showed signs of distress, Marcel tried to protect him. It was something he said, that he only cared for the Venlil’s safety.” The Kolshian’s eyes became distant, as though he was reliving the moment. “Even when the captain had a gun against his head, the predator was trying to soothe his friend. And I believed him, if just for a moment.”

“You sensed it then, Recel. You know that nobody could fake it that perfectly.”

“I know. But, I feel…”

“Forget about the feel. You’re going to walk out of here with me and Noah. We’ll find you a room, and I want you to rest up.”

“And then?”

“Then, we’re going to determine who is responsible for what happened to Marcel. The humans will decide what to do about it. It’s your decision, but I’d like you to speak to them. You represent the Federation, as far as we’re concerned.”

Noah nodded. “As would I. We don’t have to be enemies.”

Recel rose on unstable legs and dusted himself off. Those first steps into the open were tentative and frightful; he coiled his tail around mine for support.

Venturing out through the sea of humans, many of whom were openly staring, must have been a daunting task. But he managed to hold back the scream which I sensed building in his chest. The officer lowered his gaze to the floor, and marched ahead through the chemical fever.

Perhaps this man was a spark of hope that not everyone would write humanity off on sight. I prayed that Earth could find other friends in the galaxy; and that our newfound ally would find the courage to prove that it was a possibility.

***************************************************************

15. Memory transcription subject: Slanek, Venlil Space Corps

Date [standardized human time]: September 3, 2136

Nursing the human back to health became my obsession. The doctors were optimistic that Marcel would make a full recovery, but I was determined not to vacate his side. There was no way I was leaving his well-being to chance, ever again.

My claws tightened around the fork, stabbing into a block of tofu. The spongy protein folded into the prongs, and I brought it up toward the human’s mouth. My gaze lingered on the pointy canines beside his incisors, which looked perfect for tearing flesh.

It felt unnatural, placing my paw so near to a predator’s teeth, while offering it food. A pins and needles sensation danced at the base of my toes, which I promptly ignored.

“Slanek, I can do this myself,” Marcel protested.

The predator was lounging in a hospital bed, propped up against some pillows. After a fresh shave and some washing up, my human looked more like his old self. A nose splint concealed the deformed appendage, and stitches mended the gashes on his cheek. Fluids and medication were distributed intravenously, which brought life back into his complexion.

I glared at him. “But I’m not going to let you. And that’s that.”

Marcel rolled his eyes, but allowed me to insert the protein between his lips. I scrutinized him as he chewed. It was wonderful to see him eating real food after his long hunger, but I didn’t want to lose sight of the big picture.

Human medicine was primitive compared to ours, a school of medievalism. My vigilance was the only hope at preventing complications. All I knew was that Marcel’s diet was essential to his recovery; it was my intention for him to consume every calorie the medical staff gave us.

I prepared a forkful of greens, which looked scrumptious and herby, and shoved it at him. The red-haired primate sighed. He tugged the plate from my stubborn paws, and set it on the bedside table.

“You gotta stop babying me. I’m fine, buddy, really.” The human began to sit up, and grimaced as pain scorched across his ribs. “See? Good as new.”

Tears welled in my eyes. “No, you’re not!”

“I’m on the mend. This is the new normal, and that’s okay. I’m tougher than you think I am.”

“You’re very strong, and resilient, and brave…but…”

“What?”

“I almost lost you, Marc. And it scares me how much that hurts.”

“Aw. It’s over now, Slanek. I’m never going to let anyone hurt us again, okay? Come here.”

I curled up on the bed, and placed my chin on the predator’s thigh. Marcel reached out with his nimble fingers. The same hesitancy that always flashed on his face, when he was worried about spooking me, surfaced. His hand hovered over the back of my neck for several seconds, and my heartrate skyrocketed. What was he doing?

My instincts despised the location of his paw, and the way his nails were aimed at my head. It was a slash away from my throat. Everything about that body language mirrored a predator about to pounce; no amount of trust could alter those ominous cues. My eyes blinked shut, and I summoned all of my willpower to remain still.

I felt a light touch on my ear. The human palmed the right one gently, then moved to the other. The breath I didn’t realize I had been holding in escaped.

Marcel beamed when he saw me relax, and took that as encouragement to continue. His fingers darted beneath my chin, and ruffled the fur by my throat. The human’s claws nicked my skin; they were rather dull, for a predator’s offensive weapons. Oddly enough, it was more gratifying than painful.

A happy mewl emanated from my chest. I nuzzled against his side, and flipped onto my back.

“You’re so cute!” he whispered.

Without thinking, I had exposed the most soft and vulnerable organ; my stomach. Marcel tickled my belly with vigor, which was quite the overwhelming sensation. I was embarrassed by my undignified squeals and laughs, but my control was slipping. I rolled around in delirium, thrashing and kicking.

The human had to catch me when I almost tumbled off the bed. He winced from the abdominal strain, but refused to drop me. Affection and warmth shined in his eyes.

“Am I interrupting something?” Sara stood in the doorway, amusement on her face. She stared at me, the blankets on the floor, then back at me.

“Actually, you were, but not what you think,” Marcel chuckled. “What can I do for you?”

“You look better. We’re all happy to see it,” she replied. “But I just wanted a quick word with Slanek. Alone.”

I tilted my head at the scientist, confused. Had the humans decided to blame me for my inability to prevent Marcel’s injuries? Did they think he would be better off with someone stronger, and more competent at their civic duties? I couldn’t fault them if that were the case.

My human released his grip, and gave me an encouraging wave. A paralyzing reluctance made me slow to follow Sara, so I dragged my feet to a secluded spot in the hallway. A mature individual would accept the consequences of their own failure; especially when that failure landed their best friend in critical condition, a whisker away from death. I can’t let him go, though.

I slumped my shoulders. “Look, Sara…I am so sorry for what happened to Marc. My best friend was terrorized by a madman, and I was nothing more than a liability. I take full responsibility for everything, and accept whatever the UN has decided. If there is anything that I can do to make it right—”

“Slow down.” The scientist raised a pale hand. “Nobody blames you, least of all Marcel. I think having you around is helping him immensely.”

“You do?”

“It’s obvious. He’s trying to hide it, but I figure he’s in a lot of pain.”

“That’s what I was worried about. So then, um, what is it you needed to speak to me about? Oh stars, is there bad news about Marc?”

“Perhaps. It’s not clear yet. If I remember correctly, he was frightened of torture by aliens before this, yeah?” Sara waited for my nod. She seemed concerned about how to phrase her next words. “I think you need to be warned about how humans react to trauma. Our brains often have… difficulty processing it.”

I studied her expression closely. “What are you trying to say? Is Marcel going to go insane?”

“That’s not a polite word, Slanek. Everyone reacts differently. Marcel could be fine…and I hope he is,” she said. “But after what he’s been through, you must be prepared for drastic changes in mood and personality. He could become depressed, forgetful, irritable, or even hostile.”

“Hostile?”

“Nightmares and flashbacks are common in these cases. That can incite all sorts of negative reactions.”

My eyes widened in surprise. It had never occurred to me that humans relived their worst experiences as vividly as we did. When I imagined how their brains worked, I always assumed it was different. No wonder Marcel was in a prolonged fog, after watching the Arxur torture clips on the first day.

Why would a predator have such an overblown fear response, and cling to memories of prior threats? They were on the other side of that equation in nature. Even if humans descended from prey animals, they hadn’t been that for millions of years.

I guess it proves humans are just people, like us. That their emotions resemble ours.

“You didn’t say negative. You said hostile,” I pointed out.

Sara shuffled on her feet. “Well, the memories trigger our ‘fight-or-flight’ response. Some people lash out with physical violence, though they don’t mean to. I think that unlikely here, but it needs to be stated as a possibility.”

My breath hitched in my throat, though I tried not to show my fright to the scientist. Physical violence? Being assaulted by a predator wasn’t exactly on my bucket list. If a human lunged at me, without warning, I doubted I could keep my composure. It would be tough to brush that off.

The thought of Marcel, with his meaty hands clenched around my windpipe, stirred all of my subconscious fears. But I knew that wasn’t him. My human hadn’t tried to eat me, even when he was starving. This ‘mindless killer’ preserved my welfare, to his own detriment, and never displayed anything but kindness toward me.

As long as it was unintentional, I decided I could forgive him for spontaneous violence. Sara deemed it improbable, so in all likelihood, it wouldn’t happen. The prospect of mental torture, that would drive Marcel to violate his principles, was more concerning to me.

“Why are you telling me this?” I questioned.

Maybe Sara thinks I wasn’t being supportive enough. Or she’ll teach me which signs to watch for. Human mannerisms are as alien as alien gets.

“I don’t want you to fault Marcel, or to think it’s proof that humans are evil. I know how frightened you Venlil are of us. If any of those symptoms would be too much to deal with, it may be best that we find you a more suitable partner.”

My ears flattened against my head. Is that what the Terran scientific community believed we thought of them? That we saw them as interchangeable demons, and volunteered just to vindicate that conclusion?

That’s right. We risked our lives, waiting for them to slip up, so we could say ‘Gotcha!’ I thought sarcastically.

There was nobody in the galaxy: human, Venlil, or otherwise, more suitable than Marcel. Being around him was pleasant and easy. I wasn’t going to discard him the second a challenge presented itself.

“You want me to leave him, because he might be ill?” I hissed. “I don’t want another ‘partner.’ I want Marcel, and I’ll deal with whatever happens.”

“No, no, we don’t want you to leave. That’s the opposite of what we want.” Sara took a step back, trying to appear non-threatening. “But your feelings and well-being are important too, Slanek. You must not discount yourself, out of some sense of guilt or obligation.”

“Obligation?! I love him! Did you consider Marcel’s feelings at all? To even suggest that I should abandon him, right when he needs me the most…it’s cruel! Heartless!”

“We are thinking of Marcel. Listen, he is in a fragile state right now. You are the main thing reminding him he is human. That someone cares for him. What would hurt him the most is to hear you call him a monster.”

A furious growl rumbled in my throat. “I would never! Short of him eating my family in front of me, anyway. I hate that anyone would suggest otherwise.”

“Then I’ll leave you be.” Sara’s voice was measured, but there was pleasure in her eyes at my response. “If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

I flicked my ears in acknowledgement, and scampered back toward my human’s chamber without hesitation. After the mention of being pried away from Marcel, all I wanted was to have him back in my sight. What if he had an episode while I was gone? Once he was in my periphery, I could rest assured that he was okay.

Marcel had cleaned his plate during my absence, and was seated on the edge of the bed. His predatory eyes were staring into space, unblinking. There was the hint of a twitch by his lip, as if he were biting his cheek.

The human jumped a little when I leapt onto the mattress. I coiled my tail around his wrist, and noted how he slowly unclenched his fist.

“Slanek,” he sighed. “I missed you.”

Before, I had attributed his aloof moments to the primitive narcotics in the IVs. But in light of Sara’s words, it was apparent that a different culprit was to blame. I felt ashamed of myself, for not picking up on the cues sooner. My preoccupation with his physical injuries caused me to overlook the obvious.

“What were you thinking about? Just now?” I blurted.

The human forced a smile. “You don’t want to know.”

“I do. You can tell me anything, Marc.”

“Not this.”

“Try me.”

His gaze darkened. “I’m thinking I want to kill Sovlin.”

“Get in line.”

“I’m quite serious. I was fantasizing about it. Does that make me a bad person? A ‘bloodthirsty’ predator?”

“I’d shed no tears over his death. It’s not fair that he got away scot-free. You’re a good person, who is trying to process something terrible…and yes, has more aggressive instincts. You didn’t deserve any of what he did to you.”

“Thanks, buddy.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I should’ve asked about your mental health sooner. How do those memories make you feel? Are you able to talk about it?"

“I don’t know. When Sovlin was about to shoot me, I felt…relief that it was over. Profound relief. I was ready for him to pull the trigger. I was only sorry that you had to see it. And that Zarn was kidnapping you because of me.”

“Don’t worry about me. All that matters to me is that you’re here, and you recover.”

“That’s why I need you to let me push myself, Slanek. I heard we’re going to war with the Gojids…and I want to join. Even if it’s just to fly a ship or run logistics, I need to be cleared for action.”

“But you’re safer here. Why would you want to risk your life again, so soon?”

“To go after Sovlin, to deal with my anger, all of it. I have to do something, and I didn’t know how to tell you. It’s being idle that drives me mad.”

“Fine. When are we leaving?”

The human blinked. “We?”

“I’m coming with you, if I have to stow away in your duffel bag. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Moisture glistened in Marcel’s hazel eyes, and a low chuckle rumbled from his vocal cords. A silent vow formed in my mind, that I would protect him better this time around. Even if it meant shipping off to an active warzone, surrounded by trained predators with guns.

Something told me that I wouldn’t be the only Venlil tagging along for the humans’ war efforts. Though there was no formal declaration from the governor yet, I think we had chosen a side.

The fates of our species were intertwined, for better or for worse.

*****************************************************************

16. 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.

********************************************************************

17. Memory transcription subject: Captain Sovlin, Federation Fleet Command

Date [standardized human time]: September 3, 2136

Worst-case scenarios cycled through my mind, as the Gojid ships formed a defensive wall around the colony. I tried to imagine how the people on the ground felt; trapped and aware of the impending assault.

This sea of dots spanning the blue orb’s circumference was all that stood between the innocent and hungry predators. Any angle that was overlooked was an opportunity for the humans to break through. We would stop any missiles from penetrating our ranks by throwing our craft in the way, if necessary.

The only way a battle with a predator ended, was with all of them dead, or all of us dead.

The primitive nature of the human craft was our primary hope. A single hit should be enough to dispatch their ships. Hell, the station’s lasers might be able to chew through more than one at a time. Our weaponry was designed to tear through Arxur armor, and the Terrans’ defenses were negligible.

“Sir. The ships have reappeared just out of targeting range,” Jemic barked, a tremor in her voice. I hoped the weapons officer could keep her wits. “On a trajectory course for the base.”

The viewport locked onto the hostiles. I watched as they veered off onto multiple headings, and altered their course to avoid any intercepting ships we launched. A laser lanced out from the station, a streak of brilliancy across the void. The shot connected with a Terran bomber, and obliterated the predator craft in a flash.

Happiness fluttered in my chest, though it was tempered by nerves. It was encouraging that we had attained the first kill of the war.

The humans, in response, spewed plasma at the approaching Gojid ships. They seemed to hope that would ward us off, like brandishing a torch to keep a beast at bay. Weapons of that caliber couldn’t deal more than minor damage, but I knew they had to preserve their main payload for their target.

It occurred to me that we had simplified the task of bombing the station for the humans. The predators were flooring it toward their stated target, and in many ways, my suggestions cleared the path. There wasn’t a single sign of deviation, which boggled my mind.

The asteroid base dispatched as many ships as it could, and left its own defenses barren in the process. When given the choice, our commanders prioritized civilian lives over military infrastructure.

Things can be replaced. Stations can be rebuilt, I chided myself. Lives cannot. There are children down there.

I couldn’t help but wonder, for a split second, if this was a lapse in judgment on my part. Where was that predatory sadism; the one Zarn said humans used on their own world? The last thing I wanted was to cost the Gojidi Union valuable resources. It was worse if some soldiers didn’t make it from their barracks. Their deaths would weigh on my conscience for years.

But there was no way a predator could override their bloodlust, particularly while engaged in warfare! It was a matter of time before the humans rounded on our position. At least a few ships had to give into temptation, even if the majority could resist.

“Shoot the bastards! Blast them out of the sky!” I roared.

Jemic sighed. “I just said they’re out of range, sir. We need to move closer.”

“We are NOT abandoning our position. The second the planet is vulnerable, they’ll pounce.”

My mind yearned to fight the humans myself, but I had to remember the stakes at hand. We were consigned to watching, as though this skirmish were some spectator sport. Zarn was cheering each time a Terran vessel went up in a fireball, which earned strange glances from the nearest crew.

The predators weaved erratic patterns to avoid termination, but their spirals and zigzags weren’t fast enough. Every crackle of the laser purged one of the vermin. The station’s defenses were slow to recharge, but their effectiveness was dazzling. In fairness, it seemed a love tap could take out a Terran ship; their workmanship was rather flimsy.

Gojid craft remained hot on the humans’ heels, and spit our own concentrated plasma at them. There was no breathing space for our attackers. The predators rocketed up to max acceleration, and towed a tighter line toward the base. It was wonderful to see our ships chasing the humans; how the tables had turned, from the natural order. The hunter was the hunted.

“Captain, the predators are showing no interest in the colony. I don’t see the harm in taking a few ships to the battlefield,” Jemic pressed.

“They’re just trying to lose their pursuers. If they can bait us away from the colony’s defense, that’s what they want.”

Her spines bristled. “I hate feeling powerless.”

“As do I. Zarn, why don’t you make yourself useful?” I gestured toward the doctor, who was transfixed by the battle. “Establish contact with Piri, if at all possible. Make her aware of the predators’ tactics, so she can relay a warning to any nearby installations.”

The Takkan returned an eager tail swish, and scrambled to reopen communication lines. My gaze darted back to the viewport. I looked just in time to catch a glimpse of a Terran fighter, taking a round to the belly. The plasma compromised its hull integrity, and reduced it to a fractured heap of metal.

There was no hesitation from the Gojid chasers, to bombard the incapacitated ship with fire. Nobody would be foolish enough to leave a predator alive; they needed to be taken out of the fight with permanence. As long as such a monster was still kicking, they could have a final trick up their sleeves.

The human vessels clustered back together, and opted to deal with the gaining pursuers one at a time. They peppered the closest Gojid ship with fire, and concentrated their strikes on its drive column. The patroller’s engine went up in a colossal flare; debris was flung in all directions. Our other allies were forced to drop back, to avoid getting swept up in the blast’s wake.

Stars… I hate humans, I seethed. They don’t quit or retreat! I curse my ancestors, for not confirming their extinction centuries ago. This is going to be a tedious and costly war, even if we win.

The predators had endured a hailstorm of fire, and pressed nearer to the base all the same. No matter how many of their brethren were reduced to scrap, they persevered. Watching the humans’ fearlessness, I couldn’t help but envy their natural disposition. They shrugged off losses with that callous disregard for life they were so famed for.

We felt our casualties. That was the Federation’s downfall against the Arxur. It was emotion that lost us the war. Predators saw only the mission; the kill.

“Captain, we have to do something,” Jemic growled.

I flicked my ears. “It’s too late. They’re almost within orbital range.”

While the Gojid defenses could deal with the humans handily, they wouldn’t win the race against time. The predators could survive just long enough; pesky monsters. Sensing that their goal was within reach, our opponents found a final burst of speed. The lead bombers dispensed their payloads, and cylindrical missiles homed in on the asteroid’s surface. I braced myself for the inevitable aftermath.

The Gojid patrollers lunged forward in desperate pursuit, but they were already too late. Explosions detonated across the complex, tearing through the expansive stone buildings. Flame enveloped anything in the explosions’ proximity; smoke plumes bushed up within the artificial atmosphere.

Hangar roofs caved in, and buried any ships we failed to get off the ground. The powerful laser was out of commission too, since our orbital defenses were tucked in the center of the base. Bunkers and training areas were pummeled into submission. I wondered how many servicemen were trapped beneath the rubble.

The humans followed up their first volley with another barrage. There was no pause or emotion; though I don’t know why I thought there would be. The subsequent explosions ensured that nothing was standing, and reduced any likelihood of survivors.

The horror on the bridge was a choking atmosphere. Amidst my grief, I couldn't help but feel responsible for this calamity. Our local garrison could have stopped them, if there had been a few more ships at our disposal.

Why are the humans not turning toward the colony? They’re alive, and I think still have some bombs. They should come to us, any minute now.

The predator ships dipped away, but were unable to shrug off their pursuers. The Terrans branched off on individual courses; they knew we couldn’t chase after all of them. Some of those vile creatures would escape…wait.

I shook my head in disbelief. They can’t be leaving.

“The humans did exactly what they said!” My head swiveled in the direction of the voice. It was that unruly comms analyst from earlier. “They never intended to attack any civilians.”

“They just annihilated a military base, and that’s your reaction?” I snarled.

“None of the evidence suggests that they wanted to. We forced their hand,” the technician growled.

I glowered at the scene in the stars, considering the predators’ departure. What more evidence did one need, beyond looking at their faces? Their bloodstained history was just the icing on the cake, confirming what our eyes already knew.

The humans could be faking a retreat, to lull us into a false sense of security. The bombers were still within close range of the asteroid, and it would take them awhile to escape the system. Their strategy could be to double back, after we assumed they were leaving.

That, or our considerable presence by the colony dissuaded them from heeding their impulses. These creatures were more intelligent, and slightly more self-aware than the Arxur; they must have recognized that they were outmatched. That was a sufficient explanation, wasn’t it?

I forced myself to lower my hackles. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Rumi.”

“Rumi? I respect your drive to question everything, even common knowledge, but this isn’t the right cause to fight for. If humans were a species of any merit, do you think that the Federation would’ve dug up some argument to spare them? In decades of study?”

“I don’t know.”

“Think about it; that goes to anyone agreeing with the young man here. And yes, we did force their hand. We forced the humans to concede civilian targets, because of our overwhelming force.”

“How so? We’re in the wrong place.”

“We’re in the right place. Our presence deterred the humans from attacking anything else. Everyone should be proud of themselves today. We saved twenty thousand lives.”

Rumi slumped his shoulders. “If you say so.”

I imagine our allies had grown as restless as my crew. Seeing that the promise of the humans raiding the colony wasn’t panning out, some captains may be tempted to pursue the fleeing ships. Sensors indicated that many were gearing up their drives, and that our meticulous formation was dissolving.

Now was not the time for this. The predators were still in system; all we needed was a few minutes of patience to save the colony.

I leaned over my microphone. “Gojid vessels, hold your positions! Do not let the humans bait you into weakening our defense.”

“I’m not just sitting here, dammit.” A voice pierced through our encrypted military channel. “We are going to attempt search-and-rescue, and render medical assistance to anyone alive.”

My eyes darted about the viewport, searching for any signs of movement. A Gojid hospital craft had crept away from our ranks, and commenced a blazing run toward the base. Its course placed it directly in the path of an escaping human. Sensors read that the Terran ship had target-locked the vessel, and their weapons were charging.

“Turn back now!” I pleaded into the comms. “You won’t be rescuing anyone if you’re turned to slag. I’ll escort you myself when the humans are gone.”

The first responders pressed forward in defiance, and diverted their central power to shields. The fleeing predator hurled a plasma round, which deflected off our ship’s nose. The medical transport seemed shaken by the contact, though it refused to turn back. The distance between them and those things was narrowing.

This was lunacy! What were those Gojid doctors thinking? I admired their commitment to saving lives, but they were setting up the exact scenario I feared.

“Abort!” I shrieked into the communicator, broadcasting the message on all frequencies this time. “Gojid medical vessel, turn back at once. The predators will destroy you.”

There was no reply from the Gojid first responders. They were unarmed, which meant they stood no chance in combat. Worse, the Terran ship might’ve heard my plea, and realized what an easy target they stumbled upon. I waited to see the doctors blasted to bits, feeling pity swell in my chest.

On the bright side, at least it would drill some sense into Rumi, and whoever else was swayed by him. The expressions around the bridge were finally the ones I recognized from our face-offs with the Arxur.

For some inexplicable reason, the human ship hesitated. Sensors suggested that their weapons were powering down, and they were altering their course to avoid a collision. I was certain my eyes deceived me, as the primates allowed the medical ship to pass their position.

“What about that, Captain? What could they possibly gain?” Rumi hissed.

I chewed at my claws, rattled to the core. Allowing a vessel to survive, that aimed to resuscitate enemy combatants, was in direct opposition to the predators’ goals. Why would those abominations exhibit mercy? That was the exact brand of illogical softness we were mocked for, by the Arxur.

But accepting any explanation that mandated emotion was out of the question. There had to be an ulterior motive at play. There just had to be! Like I told the crew, the Federation condemned humanity by unanimous vote; they wouldn’t make that decision lightly. Perhaps I wasn’t looking at the big picture.

The humans need the Venlil for now. They can’t afford to alienate their lone ally, when they’re so behind technologically, I soothed myself. Tarva must’ve sent someone to supervise, and so they managed to show restraint. They’re biding their time.

Alarm flashed through Rumi’s body language, as he saw me struggling to formulate a response. The doctor rolled his eyes in disgust, and turned to address us all.

“They wanted to preserve ammunition, when they realized the ship wasn’t a threat,” Zarn answered for me. “Humans are pragmatic enough to override their sadism, when it comes to their own survival.”

“Quite possible.” I managed to keep my voice steady. The predators were doing an excellent job messing with my head, if nothing else. “Whatever game the humans playing at, we know their true colors. We always have...and we always will.”

********************************************************************

18. Memory transcription subject: Governor Tarva of the Venlil Republic

Date [standardized human time]: September 5, 2136

The essential Terran dignitaries were present in the meeting hall, alongside the top-ranking Venlil staff. I settled down in the chair between Noah and Kam, which was turning into the typical seating arrangement. There was satisfaction in finding the predators’ presence so… normal and routine.

The importance of this conference could not be understated. The UN was determining which parties to take action against in the Federation, and whether diplomatic avenues could prove a suitable alternative to violence. There was no reversing the war against the Gojids; the damage done to their repute by Sovlin was catastrophic. But perhaps not everyone had to get suckered into this shit show.

That was why I hoped Recel would show at the meeting. The Federation officer hadn’t left his room since his arrival, and had barely picked at the meals we delivered by his door. My attempts to speak with him were met with a half-hearted ‘Go away.’ It was all I could do to inform him of the planned start time, and remind him once more on my way to the assembly hall.

In case the Kolshian did accept our invitation, we wanted to make him as comfortable as possible. The humans were wearing opaque visors to conceal their eyes, and surgical masks to obscure their menacing snarls. The UN personnel were quite accommodating; it would likely be standard procedure, for any future first contacts.

My eyes flickered over to Noah. Without the predatory features to buff up the humans, they looked squishy and weak. Those hands were more attuned to picking berries or climbing trees than combat, which was probably close to the truth. They lacked any form of camouflage for stealth, and weren’t that quick. Even their smell and hearing were subpar.

What kind of predators are they? They always mention tools when asked, then change the subject, I thought. Perhaps they’re ashamed of their natural weakness?

“I look ridiculous in this, Tarva. I’d prefer a full helmet, rather than this cyborg doctor cosplay,” Noah hissed.

I stifled a laugh. “I understood half of what you said. But this allows you to drink water, and I hope it’s less stuffy. You must have been miserable on that first TV appearance.”

“Oh, I think I was just trying to remember to breathe. You have no idea how in awe we were.” The ambassador leaned back in his chair, and waved a hand for emphasis. “I realized how important that moment was. Sometimes, I still think to myself that I dreamed it all.”

“It is like a fever dream, isn’t it? It’s all so strange. Oh, um, speaking of strange… there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Go on.”

“We’ve noticed some unusual behavior from your human volunteers. Mildly concerning.”

“Dear God, what have we done?”

“Just all sorts of bizarre reports, which I am increasingly baffled by. Multiple cases of humans speaking in high-pitched voices when asking Venlil to do things, or even saying hello.”

“Oh, yeah…I can see that.”

“Giving us toys that make ear-piercing squeaks when touched. Sometimes throwing objects and begging us to retrieve them? I don’t understand the purpose.”

“Hm, that would be demeaning…sorry about that.”

“And you’re so obsessed with our fur. Always trying to touch it, and talking about how soft it is. Some people suggested you wanted to harvest it.”

Noah recoiled, and I figured his eyes were wide with horror. “Nothing like that. We just, er, like cute animals?”

“Why?”

“It sparks our nurturing instincts. Releases dopamine, which makes us happy.”

“But you don’t do any of that.”

“You’re a planetary leader, and I’m a terrifying beast to you. It’d be wholly inappropriate and unprofessional. Though I confess, as for the last one…the thought has crossed my mind.”

“You don’t scare me anymore, Noah. But if you must, I’d prefer you try any fur-petting on Kam than me. I’d get a laugh seeing him bite your head off.”

“Deal.”

Kam glared at us, clearly eavesdropping on our conversation. “Don’t even think about it! Tarva, it’s going to be your fault if Noah loses a finger or two.”

“Good thing I have ten of them.” Noah stretched a hand in the military advisor’s direction, and the Venlil jumped up from the table. The human brought his arm back to his chest with a laugh. “I’m kidding, Kam. I’d only do that if you asked me to.”

Secretary-General Meier broke off his conversation with his generals. “Well, I see we’re all wonderful at sitting still. Aren’t we, Ambassador Williams?”

“Uh, we were just playing around,” Noah replied.

“I see that. A lot of mature adults here.” The UN leader heaved an exasperated sigh. I was no expert in human body language, but his posture screamed exhaustion. “Right, this meeting was supposed to start ten minutes ago…no sign of Recel. Let’s get started.”

I pulled up the briefing material on my holopad, and refreshed my memory one last time. The human generals had forwarded a proposition for a ground invasion of the Gojid home world. I’d given it a cursory review, in advance of this gathering, and discussed with my advisors what our role should be.

It was ironic, since I knew what those plans were derived from. They were offshoots of the original tactics we drew up together to invade the Arxur. Brandishing those ideas against our former allies, which were designed to raid sentient farm worlds, felt dirty.

There were some modifications, stressing the preservation of civilians where possible. I was surprised to see the humans adhering to their warfare rules, under the circumstances.

The stated objective was to capture government leaders, and to force the Gojidi Union’s capitulation. I couldn’t disagree that the only way to bring them to the negotiating table was at gunpoint. They’d amassed an annihilation force from the discovery of a single human.

“I take it we’re all familiar with this operation. It’s an ambitious task, I know,” General Zhao stated.

General Jones tugged at her mask. “But ground fighting, and atmospheric warfare; that’s our territory. I’m confident in our chances.”

“The problem is which ships to use, for the battle above. To transport a proper amount of soldiers,” Zhao finished. “Candidly, our ships just don’t cut it, in any way.”

“You’ll use Venlil ships for whatever you need for now, and that’s final. We’ll give you our blueprints too, so you can build yourself a proper armada.” I glanced at Noah for support, and was relieved to see an encouraging nod. “With our knowledge in hand, I know you can make improvements on our designs. It will help us both in the long run. I don’t wish to keep anything from you anymore.”

“That’s very generous of you, Governor. Thank you,” Meier said. “We will repay—”

The door creaked open, which about made me jump out of my fur. A violet-skinned Kolshian slunk into the room, and surveyed the occupants with hesitancy. I was grateful the humans had kept their face coverings on. Even with the precautions, the Federation officer was trembling.

My ears perked up. “Recel! We didn’t think you were coming. Please, sit down.”

It was promising that he showed up, since he was the best hope of peace. Then again, he was a wild card. Recel could outright insult the humans, and inflame the situation. I don’t think the UN representatives, or for that matter, any Venlil present would take kindly to a defense of Sovlin’s actions either.

“I wasn’t sure I would come myself,” the Kolshian sighed. “But we must all live with the choices we make. Here I am.”

“It’s come to my attention that you find it hard to look at us.” Secretary-General Meier gestured to his facial attire. “We’ve elected to wear these visors, so that you don’t feel that we’re staring at you. Does that help?”

Recel waved his tail. “Yes. Thank you.”

“No, thank you. You have the sincere gratitude of our planet, for your heroism and compassion. Knowing your feelings toward predators, I suspect you will decline my offer. But we are more than willing to grant you asylum on Earth, should you so desire.”

“I appreciate the offer. You diverge from the Arxur in many ways, that I have seen. But I don’t think I could ever live among you.”

“We understand. If you truly cannot abide our looks—I mean, it’s hurtful, but not unexpected.”

Meier’s words about the sting of the galaxy’s cold-shouldered treatment rang true. My mind flickered back to how wounded Noah looked, when he learned that the Venlil planned to kill humanity. The crestfallen look on his face when I described my initial impression of him to Recel.

Maybe I shouldn’t have been quite so honest, even if it soothed the first officer. The human played it off as a joke, but I suspect he did need some kind words on occasion.

It must be awful to be shunned as a monster constantly; to feel rejected and unwanted. To have every action under a microscope. Noah had been dealing with Venlil gawking or panicking at the sight of him for months. Did he understand that I cared for him, despite my instincts?

I patted Noah on the hand absent-mindedly, and he squeezed my paw in return.

Recel drew a deep breath. “Alright. W-what else do you want of me?”

“Co-existence is all we ask, from anyone,” Meier replied. “I don’t know how to achieve that from a Federation that seeks to genocide humanity. I’d like your opinion, because my own outlook is quite bleak.”

“Some in the Federation may be open to hearing your case, if they can get past the…you know. I’ve had a lot of time to think, and I believe human history may have been studied through a narrow lens. It’s so ingrained that predators are inherently evil. We might’ve overlooked the forest for the trees.”

“And where does that leave us? I don’t think the Gojids are the only ones plotting an attack in the Federation. If you have any ideas for a peaceful resolution, I’m all ears, but we intend to defend Earth to the last.”

The Kolshian’s demeanor shifted in an instant, and suddenly, an authoritative officer was present. “You can start by releasing the hostages. Now. Peaceful species don’t hold diplomats and civilians against their will.”

“That was my doing, Recel,” I chimed in. “After what happened with Marcel, you can see why I thought it necessary.”

“But I agree with him, Tarva. It reflects poorly on humanity, because, regardless of the truth, everyone will fault us in that matter. The Federation must be worried for their citizens’ condition.” Meier tapped his fingers on the table, deep in thought. “It will help our case for their own people to validate what has been said by the Venlil. We should allow anyone to leave that wishes to.”

“News of our existence is out,” Noah added. “The damage is already done. There’s no reason to keep them here.”

I flicked my ears. “Very well. I’ll reopen the borders tonight…at least for outbound ships.”

Recel’s eyes widened in surprise. It was obvious the officer had been expecting resistance, rather than for the predators to side with him.

“Good. That’s settled. Any other ideas, Recel?” Meier asked.

“Um, the Federation is holding a summit, a few days from now. They’re going to discuss what to do regarding humanity. You could send a representative. Perhaps they would let you say a few words in your defense?”

“What’s to stop the Federation from covering up anything we say? Any information we give them, or anything that contradicts their narrative? It sounds like your leadership has already made up their minds.”

“The Federation aren’t out to dupe their own citizens. They just can’t have another Arxur. Everything will be broadcast, so even if the leadership won’t budge, you could sway public opinion.”

“But you hardly sound convinced that the Federation will let a human speak at all, Recel. What’s to stop them from slapping a collar on our representative, and bashing their face in too? Or shooting them on sight?”

“Honestly? Nothing. I can’t predict how they’ll react. I would’ve thought we were better than that at one time, but I don’t anymore.”

“I couldn’t send anyone to that fate. It would be akin to murder.”

I swished my tail in agreement. After watching a human pilot, brutalized at the hands of a Federation crew, the risks were fresh in everyone’s memory. It was a senseless sacrifice, that could be for nothing; the Federation would be reluctant to let a predator voice its thoughts. Recel knew better than anyone how deep-seated their hatred ran.

“I’ll go,” Noah said.

My pupils snapped toward him. “Absolutely not! I don’t want to see you killed, or maimed as a lab rat.”

“I’m not afraid of dying. If there is a single species like the Venlil out there, I find it a worthy cause.” The ambassador gave me a reassuring pat on the shoulder, then turned his head toward Meier. “All I ask is for a cyanide capsule. I don’t know if I could bear torture. I want a way out, if it comes to that.”

The Secretary-General hesitated. “Are you sure? I couldn’t tell you, not with a straight face, that I believe you’ll come home.”

“Quite sure. And I’d like to leave as soon as possible. There’s no time to waste.”

Horror chilled my blood. The last person I wanted to fall into Federation custody was sweet, forgiving Noah. He was a godsend in the ambassadorial role; always with a perfect read on my emotions, and willing to answer every awkward question. I had come to think of him as one of my own advisors. Perhaps I was a bit too reliant on him to defuse tense situations.

“I’ll go with you, then,” I hissed. “I’ll try to protect you, though I don’t think I can do much. My standing with the Federation has diminished.”

“Tarva, no. What if they hurt you? They threw a Venlil in a cage with a starving predator, remember?”

“They won’t do that to me. I’m a planetary leader, and the galaxy will be watching. I am not worried for my safety.”

Recel lowered his eyes. “Please allow me to accompany you as well. I wish to turn myself in for high treason.”

“We don’t want you punished for helping us,” Meier said.

“I know. But my testimony may be helpful in balancing what Sovlin has told them. And I wish to be home, whatever happens. My heart lies with the Federation.”

“If that is really what you want, you’re not a prisoner.” Disappointment seeped into the UN leader’s tone. “I do wish you would reconsider though.”

“I won’t.”

“Very well. Good luck to all of you then.”

Noah stood up from his chair, and extended his hand to the Secretary-General. Meier tugged at it, in that quirky, grappling ritual humans did. It felt like a final good-bye, though I hoped that wasn’t the case.

I wondered what the gentle ambassador could say that would dissuade the Federation. He needed to challenge hundreds of years of research, and flip assumptions, without getting killed.

It was a tall task, even for a man who epitomized the best of humanity.

*****************************************************************

19. Memory transcription subject: Governor Tarva of the Venlil Republic

Date [standardized human time]: September 10, 2136

Two patrol ships rushed to intercept our transport the second we crossed the Zurulian border. There was none of the warmth in their greeting that I craved.

I hoped that dodging Gojid territory would lower the temperature of any interactions, but word traveled quickly. Our neighbors possessed a keen awareness that the Venlil had thrown in our lot with predators. We were guilty by association now. I assured the Zurulians of my diplomatic intent, and decided not to mention the human’s presence until we reached our destination.

After several back-and-forth conversations, the guards received permission to escort us to the summit. I suspect they wouldn’t have allowed it if they knew a human and a traitor were the other two passengers. The Federation chaperones were diligent, tailing us through subspace for the duration of the days-long trip.

I still don’t know how I’m going to convince them to let a predator play politics. Maybe I should just wing it?

Our transport was midway through its descent now, plunging through the host planet’s atmosphere. It was apparent what Recel meant by returning home. The Kolshian home world, Aafa (a name that translates to ‘garden’), was hosting the convention in its capital. It would require great care not to incite a stampede, with the crowd I anticipated.

Millions of residents dwelled among artistic buildings and botanical wonders; the renowned School of the Flora meant Aafa had a large student population. There would be ample spectators at the governing hall, since such sessions were open to the public. If a predator was reported on the loose, the premises might be vacated or locked down.

I wondered if the nearest civilians would be rushed to bunkers, the way I had done when the humans approached my planet. It seemed silly, in retrospect: sending out a planetary distress signal over a two-person vessel. Someday, I was going to tell Noah that I intended to surrender Venlil Prime to him. The Terran ambassador would have a hearty laugh at my expense.

“This is Governor Tarva. I reiterate my request to speak to the presiding chieftain immediately. It is urgent!” I transmitted, for the fourth time.

My designated strategy was to hail the Federation over the media channels, so that if anything went wrong, the public could hold them accountable. Recel was sandwiched beside me, in order to appear on our video feed. The Kolshian officer couldn’t stop yawning; his orange eyes were bleary from sleep-deprivation. I was amazed he hadn’t nodded off from exhaustion, regardless of his instincts.

Noah was preoccupied editing the first contact materials the UN had thrown together. The predator seemed uncharacteristically nervous. I knew he wanted to paint a rosy picture of humanity, and to include anything that might help their cause.

Wasn’t he displaying that ‘closed body language’ he explained to me long ago? Maybe I was projecting my feelings onto him, since I was terrified about what would happen to him next.

“He’s signing on now. Please, be patient,” came the monotone reply. “Your favor here is strained as things are, Governor.”

I was aware of the fact that our ship was target-locked; that wasn’t exactly standard procedure for an approaching diplomat. A large security force was present to ward off any Arxur attacks, in case they got a whiff of the convention’s location. The Federation couldn’t afford to have every galactic leader killed in a decapitation strike.

We’re not part of the Federation anymore, are we? I realized, with a pang of sorrow. The Venlil are public enemy number one. I’m probably going to be offering our withdrawal today…if they don’t kick us out first.

The Terran ambassador clapped his hands together, in what I believed was satisfaction, and jolted me out of my thoughts. Recel whined at the unexpected movement, and the human dipped his head in an apology.

“All set, Tarva,” Noah whispered. “Send it over.”

I tapped a button on my holopad, uploading the data cache to the local internet. The compilation documented everything that had transpired since first contact. It also went over humanity’s surprising ability to form attachments, and the cultural nuances the Federation overlooked in past research. That was the narrative I wanted to circulate.

I shared the file wherever I thought it could get traction; social media, discussion boards, and private messages to reporters. With any luck, a few figures in the media would pick it up and ignite a public discourse. Even if they were laughing at the notion, it would introduce viewers to the idea of a friendly predator.

“You!” A Kolshian with indigo coloration appeared on screen, and I recognized him as the senior Chief Nikonus. A scowl marred his features as he spotted the officer beside me. “We heard what you did, Recel. Shooting your own captain, and releasing a predator?”

“There were extenuating circumstances. Recel is remanding himself to your custody,” I said.

Nikonus squinted at the video feed. “You look terrible. The guilt must be eating you alive.”

The treasonous officer pawed at his eyes. “No…I just can’t sleep a wink trapped with this creature. It’s not his fault…he covered his eyes for the entire ride, he’s tried staying out of sight…but knowing that he’s present…”

“Creature? What is Recel babbling about, Tarva?” the Kolshian leader growled.

“Don’t freak out, okay? Please.” I turned the camera toward the masked predator, who flailed his hand in front of him. “There is Noah; the third and final passenger on our ship. He wants to speak to all of you.”

Chief Nikonus’ eyes bulged. “Is that…”

“A human. Yes.”

“Why would you bring a predator here? Are you trying to set it loose on us?!”

“All we want is to talk. You’re about to attack his planet. Shouldn’t you hear from this supposedly evil species first, before you make a permanent decision? Doesn’t he have a right to defend himself?”

“Absolutely not. If you weren’t on that vessel, Governor, I’d order it shot down!”

There was no hesitation from the Kolshian host, which wasn’t a promising sign. Would Nikonus even allow our ship to land at all? What would deter them from gunning Noah down, the second he set foot in the station?

“You permitted us entry, before you knew of the human’s presence,” I pleaded. “Do the Venlil have a right to address the galaxy?”

The Chief flared his nostrils. “You have a right to speak, and to state your version of events on record. You’re still a member of the Federation… at least, for now.”

“Well, I wish for Noah to speak in my stead, and to be treated with the same rights as a Venlil citizen. Look in my eyes. I consider him one of my own.”

“You have snapped, Tarva! There’s millions of people down here, who don’t want that thing to set foot in our capital. Some of us still value our lives.”

“It’s one predator versus all of you. You have him well outnumbered.”

“I can’t let a dangerous beast into the governing chamber. What’s to stop it from eating the nearest leader on television? To stand and gloat about the taste of our children’s blood?”

“He won’t.”

“But what if it does?”

“Then you’ll have documentation of what humanity was like, when the Federation is asked by future generations why we made this decision,” Recel interjected. “But I’m telling you, these predators are more civilized than they look.”

“Please, Nikonus. Let Noah say what he’s come here to say. You don’t want people to think you have something to hide, do you? What harm can a few words do?”

“Ugh. It can speak for five minutes, and not a second longer. If it so much as stares at anyone the wrong way or stumbles in its footing, it will be shot.” The Kolshian chief waved a tentacle assertively. “Nor will I pledge for its safety after that time frame, even if it complies. Understand?”

Five minutes was hardly enough to break the ice, let alone cover everything in humanity’s arsenal. It was a farce of a trial to appease the Venlil; after which, the Federation could rush to a summary judgment. Noah’s body language betrayed little emotion, but he gave me a nod to signal his acceptance of the terms.

I flicked my ears with forced politeness. “We accept. And if you’re interested in objectivity, parse through the data dump. That goes to anyone listening. I’ve uploaded it to social media under my credentials, explaining what we’ve learned since first contact.”

“You’re pushing your luck, Tarva. I have a lot of preparations to make. Do not disembark until my next transmission.”

The Kolshian presider cut off the call, uninterested in waiting for my acknowledgement. That could’ve gone better…but it also could’ve gone much worse. Recel collapsed into the nearest seat, while I turned back to the pilot’s console. We were moments away from arrival, and had just cleared the spaceport overhang.

The ship touched down under my supervision, slipping its tendrils into the docking port. A thud hummed through the walls, and the engine commenced its cooldown process. I breathed a sigh of relief. The Kolshians allowed us to complete our landing sequence, which was half of the challenge.

The terminal was adjoined to the governance hall, similar to the reception lawn we had on Venlil Prime. I was pleased to see media personnel and cameras, all trying to catch a glimpse of the predator diplomat. Non-essentials hadn’t been evacuated; not yet, anyway. My play, to talk where everyone could hear us, had paid off.

The more eyes on this whole debacle, the better.

Noah peeked through the window. Knowing him, the ambassador was itching to survey the alien scenery. A red dot appeared on his forehead, and I screamed at him to get down. The predator dropped to the floor with lightning-quick reflexes.

The human removed his mask for a moment, clearly short of breath. Those binocular eyes must be lost in a thousand-yard stare beneath that visor; he laid on the floor in silence for several minutes. I think he was worried if he stood up, the Federation was going to kill him. A trigger-happy shooter could take him out in a heartbeat.

Recel studied the predator, as he held his head in his hands.

“What are you thinking, human?” the disgraced officer asked.

Noah snorted. “I’m wondering how the Arxur were ever uplifted, when it’s obvious your hatred for predators is so strong.”

“Things would’ve been different for humanity if you were the first ones we found. We uplifted dozens of species before them, without issue,” Recel explained. “We wanted to accept all sentients.”

“But all the research you did suggested the Arxur were different. Did prey species fight wars, Recel?”

“Not in the way you do. Our wars were over limited resources; for survival, when there wasn’t enough to go around. It wasn’t about power, ideology, or bloodshed. That’s why we thought we could fix the grays.”

I pinned my ears against my head. “We were naïve and stupid, but I miss the species we were then. Maybe we deserved what happened to us, because of our weakness.”

“Of course not! I just don’t understand how they took on you all at once.” Noah pursed his lips, and dragged himself back to a sitting position. “Even with your help, there’s no way we could steamroll the entire galaxy.”

Recel stifled a yawn. “We had nothing to defend ourselves with then. The only survivors from that sector of space are the species that ran. We didn’t understand what was happening.”

“But why didn’t you have any defenses?” the predator asked. “You never even considered the possibility of being attacked? No preparation or contingency?”

“You don’t understand, because you’ve never known peace. Why would you have planetary defenses when all sapients get along, as a rule? Why would you have warships if you never intended to use them? Humans had a… very different experience on your world.”

I swiveled my ears down, and allowed their conversation to float into the background. The last thing I wanted at a time like this was to discuss a topic as grim as war, especially when I’m sure Noah had stories that could traumatize me. There was no harm in closing my eyes, just for a few seconds…

The world fizzled away, and my mind dissolved into the dark ocean of slumber.

“Tarva, wake up.” Noah’s visor was inches away from my face; I almost headbutted him when I jerked upright. “The Kolshians told us we can leave the ship. It’s time.”

It appeared that Recel had already fled from the craft, which didn’t surprise me. If I was a betting woman, I’d wager he was thrilled to be out in fresh air. Back on his own turf, even though it spelled catastrophe for him. The Kolshian officer didn’t want to be confined with a human any longer than necessary.

I wonder what will happen to Recel. He’s going to have several counts of treason stacked against him, I mused. The Kolshians could hang him ten times over, if they want to.

The human hoisted me to my paws, and half-carried me over to the exit hatch. I leaned on him even after I regained my bearings, reluctant to let go. There was no telling what the Federation would do when we disembarked this ship; we knew for a fact that there were gunmen on standby.

We climbed down to the octagonal terminal together, and I struggled to read my surroundings. Dazzling lights were pointed straight at us, likely intended to blind the predator. Noah winced, and brought a hand toward his eyes to soften the blow. The human must be grateful to have the tinted visor to shield his vision.

I turned my head to the side, so that the glare wasn’t head-on. Kolshian soldiers were wrapping a trembling Recel in chains, and stuffed a gag in his mouth. One of the guards whipped him on the chin with a nightstick. They seemed to feel more vitriol toward him than the human.

“Oops,” the guard jeered. “My bad.”

The officer whimpered, but didn’t fight back against his captors. A pang of concern stabbed at my chest, as they dragged the violet-skinned Kolshian away. Then again, I suppose I should be more worried for Noah’s safety now. Recel still had time to assemble a proper defense, whereas the predator could be dead at a moment’s notice.

A Kolshian female raised a megaphone. “Human, take slow steps forward. Walk until we tell you to turn.”

The human crept forward in shuffling steps; it was obvious he was unsure of his footing. My guess was his eyes were shut all together. I curled my tail around Noah’s wrist, and steered him forward. His pulse raced; I could detect the hammering heartbeat through my fluffy tail. The camera lens’ zeroed in on me, no doubt stupefied that I would incite contact with such a creature.

The fact that Noah’s eyes were hidden probably helped our hosts keep their claws off the trigger. The soldiers directed us down a series of hallways, and I tried to look as relaxed as possible. The onlookers would attribute any fear to my proximity to the human. Optics were everything, at this point.

I wondered how the leaders would react, when we reached the governing chamber. The announcement of a human’s arrival must’ve come as a shock; that wasn’t what they imagined when they planned this visit. It was one thing to talk about a predator in the abstract, but another to see a waking nightmare in person.

The Terran ambassador better have a damn good speech at the ready. Somehow, I didn’t think the Federation gentry would welcome him with open arms.

************************************************************************

20. Memory transcription subject: Governor Tarva of the Venlil Republic

Date [standardized human time]: September 10, 2136

The human ambassador strode up to the microphone, and scanned the cavernous auditorium. Every guard on the premises was flocked a safe distance away from the predator, with rifles trained at his head. Barricades and barbed wire stretched in front of the podium.

“Hello, leaders and citizens of the Federation. My name is Noah, and I come seeking peace on behalf of humanity.”

Silence reigned supreme over the chamber, and the human’s words hung in the air with an echo. The seats in the front row were vacated entirely; many of their occupants were sharing stations with the species near the rear wall. Others were pacing by the exits, and a few were absent altogether. Remote viewing must have seemed the best option.

“I am sure all of you have heard terrible things about my species. Perhaps some of them are even true. Predators ravaged your worlds and twisted your altruism, and you fear that we bear such intentions.” Noah turned his head toward me, and I flicked my ears in support. “But your conclusions are a product of confirmation bias; selecting only evidence that confirms your pre-existing beliefs. Humanity is not the same as the Arxur.”

The reporters in the upper decks were filming every word. Commentators spoke in soundproofed booths, offering live opinions on some of the most influential political shows in the galaxy. The public viewing balcony was almost empty, so most of the citizenry would witness this display secondhand.

The anxious murmurs rippling around showed this wasn’t what anyone was expecting. They were expecting the human to come here, brandishing mocking footage and lobbying threats. It was clear they were concerned how close I was standing to Noah; a few tried to signal ‘Run’ to me with tail language.

“You come in here, wearing a mask, and think that hides what you are?” Jerulim, the Krakotl ambassador, leapt out of his seat in outrage. His feathers were puffed out behind him in a semi-circle. “You’re a slaughtering lot of slavers! You round up and gas children!”

The nearest dignitaries glanced at the avian, and signaled their agreement with tail-waves and ear flicks. It seemed to embolden others to vocalize their opinions.

“Wars where millions die are a regular thing on your planet,” Darq, the Farsul high elder, joined in. Her thin ears drooped with horror. “You use weapons that maximize suffering and destruction. You invade your neighbors and bomb cities; just like the grays.”

Noah raised his hands placatingly. “We have inflicted grave suffering upon ourselves, and I admit we have self-destructive tendencies. But as the Venlil can attest, there is another side to humanity. The side of us that is protective and familial, and has always reached to the stars in earnest. We have the traits of both predators and prey.”

“Yeah, sure. Like what? Mortality? Breathing?” Jerulim jeered.

“Let’s start with the forward-facing eyes, which seem to be the focal point of your disgust.” The human was unfazed by the widespread contempt, keeping his voice level. “They evolved for depth perception, since primates are an arboreal class of mammals. They have nothing to do with hunting, and—”

“Just happens to help with tracking and killing living creatures too, doesn’t it? Funny!” Mazic President Cupo interrupted.

“Well—”

“Which ones of us look tasty to your ‘arboreal’ eyes?” an unidentifiable voice asked.

A cacophony of similar-minded leaders spoke up. Animosity and fear were two words that captured the collective mindset to a tee. The shouts ranged from panicked, to accusatory, to blood-seeking. The Kolshian guards stiffened as the meeting dissolved into chaos; no doubt they expected the discordance to elicit a violent response from the predator.

“You’re just here to terrorize us! To scope out your enemies.”

“You kidnapped our civilians! Your first action as a space-faring species was to hold innocents against their will.”

“Flesh-eating filth. You defile this chamber with your presence.”

“Why did you assault the Gojids in cold blood?”

“We should execute this beast. I’d like to see its head roll!”

My eyes widened in dismay, and Noah ducked his head. This was a beatdown televised to the galaxy; not any genuine attempt at listening. It was only solidifying the viewers’ prejudices, hearing their leaders trounce any attempts for the predator to speak. I noticed a few dignitaries seemed interested in what the human was saying though, which was a glimmer of hope.

“SILENCE! I said we would let it speak, and I don’t break my word. Can you not hold your tongues for a few minutes?” Chief Nikonus roared.

Noah took a deep breath to collect himself. “Thank you. Unlike the Arxur, humans are omnivores. That means our diet is primarily plants. Plants, vegetation, you hear me? We are capable of subsisting without meat, and some of us choose to do so.”

“But you eat flesh?” Jerulim called from the crowd, ignoring the chairman’s glare. “Yes, you personally.”

“Er, yes. No animal has to die, thanks to science. We grow our meat from cell samples in a lab,” the predator added quickly. “Does that not overrule the moral dilemma? Of killing another creature? There is no suffering caused. We’ve done our best within the confines of our nutritional needs.”

The representatives bore squeamish expressions. While the ethical argument was correct, the mental image that answer evoked was unsettling. They were probably visualizing an unmasked Noah, stooped over a maggot-ridden corpse, with blood dripping down his chin. How could they take the person talking seriously with that thought?

Humans seemed to understand the reaction when we asked how they would feel, if they knew someone chowed down on human legs. It wouldn’t matter whether they were “ethically sourced.” The idea of consuming animal parts was utterly reprehensible to most species. I respected the Terran’s honesty, but that wasn’t earning him any brownie points with the Federation.

Even when I thought about Noah, munching into some artificial animal carcass, it made me shudder. I was happy he didn’t do it in front of me, but I still preferred not to think about it. There was a crevasse of my mind that wondered if humans would find Venlil tasty. Did that craving really make the lovable ambassador salivate?

Nikonus retched into the wastebin under his station. “Growing flesh in a vat? Let’s change the subject… please.”

“Gladly. I don’t have time to go over everything on the data cache Tarva shared with you all in detail, as I hoped,” the predator stated. “But we’ve included our art, music, relationships, philosophy, culture, architecture, and scientific achievements. You may find beauty in our creation and innovation.”

I finally found my voice. “The experiments conducted by the Venlil, which proved humans have a wide-range of softer emotions, have been uploaded as well. Your scientists are welcome to review those findings; and I promise, they are replicable, if you wish to see for yourselves.”

“Ultimately, this is about you, not us. Do you want to kill a race of thinking, feeling people, because they are predators? Just because they have a violent history, and a few biological traits you curl your noses at? Is that reason enough to—"

Jerulim tossed his sunset-colored beak. “YES!”

“If cruelty and violence are reason enough to genocide a species, we should kill all of you.” Noah had synced his holopad to the auditorium projector, and cast a video to it. “You want to wipe out humanity without ever hearing us out; with no remorse. How would you respond in our position? What choice are you giving us?”

A handheld video of a young predator appeared on screen. I winced as recognition dawned on me, and I realized where Noah was taking this.

Marcel was holding a light-pink baby prey creature in one arm, feeding it milk with a bottle. The infant suckled eagerly, while the human supported its tiny front legs with gentle fingers. The leaders’ expressions softened at the cute animal, though they seemed worried about the predator dropping the ruse and gobbling it up.

“This is Marcel. He volunteers to care for animals in his spare time. Before we learned about the Arxur, he wanted to go to veterinary school. He’s never consumed meat in his life.”

Noah swiped a button. The footage switched to a news reel, which captured Marcel as he was carted away for emergency care. The prolific wounds presented a stark deterioration from the pristine condition he was in before. It was tough to tell this gaunt, ungroomed human was the same fellow. The red-haired primate looked like a wild predator plucked from the woods.

Gasps echoed around the room, and I was relieved to see some genuine pity. Many species averted their eyes. I don’t believe even the ones who wanted humans dead could stomach the execution of such violence.

The entire galaxy is going to see this, once the tapes reach them. Noah is forcing them to feel empathy for a predator.

The film transitioned to close-ups of the bruises, the emaciated bones, and the neck burns beneath the asphyxiating collar. The haunting finale was a photo of Marcel unconscious in a hospital bed, with a sobbing Slanek at his side.

“This is what your captain did to an herbivore human. Sovlin starved him and laughed at his pain, while Marcel begged him to stop.” The Terran ambassador’s voice climbed with indignation, and he shook his head in disgust. “It was cruelty for cruelty’s sake. How can you say you’re any different than the Arxur? If that’s not predatory behavior, I don’t know what is.”

“Wait, he’s not our captain; he answers to Piri. We didn’t tell Sovlin to do that. We had no idea he went that far,” Nikonus growled.

“I want justice. I want a trial, by your laws or ours. Can you imagine if a human treated one of your people like that? What would you be saying about us?”

“It doesn’t matter what you do. You need to die either way,” Jerulim muttered. “The whole idea is that you don’t have the chance to fuck us over. You’re not like us.”

“But who decides who lives or who dies? Who is ‘like us’? What precedent are you setting? Perhaps there’s an intelligent scavenger out there, who wouldn’t hurt a fly.” The human paused for effect, and raised a confident hand. “A predator, who only eats insects and small game? A territorial herbivore, who might lash out at you? Maybe just a tree-dwelling creature who gets targeted for their eyes.”

Cupo flared his trunk. “T-this is ridiculous! Your whole argument is hypothetical.”

“Yes. It’s the hypothetical, that maybe, just maybe, we could be your friends. That’s what I want you to consider.”

“How do we know you won’t turn on us?” the Mazic returned, a hint of fear seeping into his voice.

“You don’t. But you’re going to lose this war without our help, and adding us into the mix basically guarantees it. Even if you believe that chance is slim, humanity is your only chance at victory. Work with us to fight the Arxur, as we have offered from the start, or we can all die together. It is your choice.”

Thoughtful expressions cropped up across the chamber, as the logic of the human’s words sank in. Noah saved a compelling argument for last; appealing to reason where empathy could not prevail. Even if this whole thing was an elaborate ruse, it wouldn’t affect the war’s outcome to fall for it.

Nikonus tapped his microphone. “Alright. That’s enough, human.”

“Of course. I’d just like to mention—“

“No. I let you speak over your allotted time, since these fools kept interrupting you. You can’t say I’m being unfair.”

“Right. Thank you.”

The human stepped back from the podium, and seemed to be awaiting further instruction. Chief Nikonus’ prior words, about not vouching for his safety after the speech, rang in my ears. Would the Kolshian soldiers really shoot a diplomat in cold blood, after everything they witnessed?

“Exit the chamber with slow steps, and follow the trail of lights on the floor.” Nikonus spoke. “We’ve prepared living arrangements. I expect you, at least the human, to stay there indefinitely. I will retrieve you two when all parties have reached a decision.”

I hovered at Noah’s side as we walked out, and visible relief tugged at my features. The Terran ambassador spotted the emergency lights along the baseboards, and trudged away with quiet reservation. My mind was reeling as we scaled a narrow stairwell, but I was just grateful the human was alive.

The selected living arrangements were a full diplomatic suite, complete with plumbing and a kitchenette. Two trays of fruit mash, with an algae and grain garnish, waited on the bedstand. Noah’s species needed more protein in their diet. However, I wasn’t going to explain that when the Kolshians were serving him a gourmet meal, the same as everyone else. They could’ve starved him and tossed him in a dingy cell.

The human flung off his visor. After wearing it for days, the rough metal had left an indentation around his eyes. A deep sadness danced in his chocolate irises, and months of weariness bubbled to the surface.

“I’m trying so hard, Tarva. This was my dream,” Noah muttered.

I placed a paw on his shoulder. “You were amazing!”

The predator sighed. “It didn’t feel like that. It felt like nothing I said mattered.”

“You’re wrong,” a new voice chimed in. “As with most things in life, the hate-infused rhetoric stems from a vocal minority. Idiots speak the loudest. Reasonable people tend to be the quiet ones.”

The human’s head snapped up, and his eyes locked on the Zurulian at the door. The Zurulians were a neighboring species to us and the Gojids. With their quadrupedal anatomy, shaggy brown fur and cub-like ears, they looked smaller than they were. I imagine the visitor triggered Noah’s “cute” response, which made him all the more aware of his predatory visage.

The Terran ambassador practically fell over himself to scoop his visor off the floor. He pressed a hand to his face in the interim, peeking between his fingers in comical fashion.

Noah fumbled with his headgear, panicking. “Er, I apologize. I wasn’t expecting company so soon.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t have to apologize for your appearance. Leave the visor off, friend.” The male Zurulian averted his eyes briefly, before continuing. “I’m Chauson, behavioral scientist with the Galactic Institute of Medicine. May I come in?”

“Yes, go ahead! Please do,” Noah said.

“I’ve been speaking in our Prime Minister’s ear, before you ever went on stage. He’s my brother,” the scientist explained. “Those Venlil experiments are irrefutable. You sympathize with our plight, and you take no joy in suffering. With that new evidence in mind, we’re willing to change our position on humanity.”

“You are? I’m thrilled to hear that someone can grasp the truth.”

“At long last. The Zurulian government expresses our desire to begin anew, and I only hope that doesn’t come too late. Would you like to open diplomatic relations?”

Noah’s eyes crinkled around the edges, which indicated that a smile was hidden beneath his mask. The Terran ambassador felt his mission was worthwhile, if he swayed a single species. That wondrous enthusiasm returned to his predatory gaze, as bright as the day we first met.

“Yes, we would like that, very much. More than you know. Humanity’s door is always open.”

************************************************************************

21. Memory transcription subject: Slanek, Venlil Space Corps

Date [standardized human time]: September 23, 2136

Thanks to the destruction of Gojid military outposts, human forces were able to waltz through their systems without challenge. Piri recalled all vessels to protect their cradle-world, which meant the attack on Earth was postponed. With their border detection systems and complex defense network offline, their only play was to hold their core planets.

The rambunctious behavior of the humans, on the transport ride to the Gojid homeworld, struck me as odd. Their vulgarity multiplied by an exponential factor, once we were among the regular soldiers; the outpost visitors never made such explicit or demeaning comments. Even Marcel made some quips to his counterparts that came across as downright cruel, but they just laughed it off.

I was beginning to realize that these predators may have toned themselves down, so as not to exacerbate our fears.

How can they mess around at a time like this? Don’t they know what they’re walking into?

My human was ‘playing’ some ‘game’ with his new friend, Tyler, which was difficult for me to spectate. As I observed, my buddy’s on-screen avatar shot an enemy, while gunfire sound effects blared from the speakers. Marcel’s laser-focused expression became gleeful, and his counterpart cursed.

The screen shifted to a replay, which showed the bullet penetrating the avatar’s head from a side angle. The body dropped in slow motion, as though the game was glamorizing its demise. Why would the Terrans want to simulate murder and warfare, for fun? I hated seeing my friend conduct himself in a predatory manner. It was disconcerting, to say the least.

Come to think of it, the ruckus the predators were creating caused me discomfort, in general. I really wanted a hug, and for them to turn off that uncivilized game. However, I didn’t want to embarrass my Terran friend by collapsing into his grip; that would put him in an uncomfortable position. According to my recent reading, human males were taught not to display emotion in public.

Marcel grinned as Tyler called him obscenities, and my ears drooped against my head. I was hyper-aware that I was the only Venlil on this ship. I felt neglected and…alone, in this awful cage.

We’re less than an hour away from our destination, Slanek. You need to get yourself together.

I slipped away while the red-haired human was distracted, and locked myself into the lavatory. My snuffling echoed through the chamber, as full-throated sobs racked my body. Why couldn’t I just be happy that my friend was improving?

It was idiotic to think that Marcel needed me. There were too many rowdy predators here, and I was just going to get in the way. Whatever bonding had occurred between us, my species was too emotional and sensitive. I could never be one of his kind; it was more enjoyable for him to hang with his own people.

Maybe my human was bored of me, now that the alien novelty had worn off. Had I been suffocating the redhead, when I shepherded his recovery? My sentimentality must be grating on his nerves.

All we were to the Terrans was a burden. They had to be gentle with Venlil, and couldn’t be their true selves.

“Slanek.” A rapping sound emanated on the frame, and Marcel’s agitated voice trickled into my ears. Surprise tingled in my chest that he even noticed my departure. “Slanek, open the door.”

“Go away,” I growled.

Regret pulsed through my mind, instantly, but it was too late to take the words back. I didn’t want to hurt him, or push him away. What if this was what Sara meant, when she warned me not to call him a monster? I needed to let him make new friends, if that was what helped his recovery; even if it meant replacing me.

“I can’t do that.” The human tugged at the sliding door, making the frame wobble. “Don’t make me kick this down, ya big fluffer.”

I blinked away the tears, and tried to collect myself. My claws hooked on the locking mechanism, and began to unclasp it. Marcel pushed his way inside the second it opened, and knelt beside me. His hazel gaze softened when he looked at me; judging by the irritation, my eyes were red and puffy.

“Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?” he whispered.

I shook my head. “No.”

“The video games bother you? You think it’s senseless and violent. Predatory?”

“Yeah. But that’s not why I’m crying…at least, I don’t think so.”

“So you’re homesick?”

“Not really. Ah, don’t worry about it. It’s stupid.”

The human crossed his arms, and raised his eyebrows. The unwavering look he gave me stated, I’m not budging until you spill.

A tear strayed down my cheek. “You’ve been different ever since we got on this ship, Marc. I feel like you don’t want me here.”

Marcel recoiled like he’d been slapped, and stared at me in silence. My heart sank; the soldier wasn’t denying it. The human finally shook his head and chuckled, a stubborn grin clinging to his face. How could even a predator find that amusing?

A snarl tugged at my lips. “Don’t laugh at me!”

“I am going to laugh at you, when you say something that fucking dumb,” he snorted.

“How is it dumb? It’s like you’ve lost all interest in talking to me, or doing anything together.”

“Slanek, you’ve been avoiding me with a ten-foot pole. You haven’t so much as wagged your tail at me, and it’s suddenly like any contact with me repulses you. So I’ve been keeping my distance, and trying to figure out what I did.”

“Huh? Don’t you want your…‘personal space?’ I read a lot of books on human psychology to prep for this trip. They said you have an aversion to close contact. I didn’t want to pester or embarrass you in front of the other guys.”

“We have a problem with other humans in our bubble. But you? You’re fine, because you’re cute. Look, anyone that objects to me cuddling you is probably the type of person that kicks puppies for fun. So they can fuck right off.”

A chuckle trilled from my throat. All the predatory stressors compounded my emotions, and it hadn’t even occurred to me that I was the one who withdrew. Marcel was only respecting what he saw as my wishes.

I squinted at him. “You’re having more fun with the other humans, though. You look so happy…and I want you to be…”

“I’m just trying to get to know the guys. We’re going to be fighting alongside of them. I don’t want everyone to treat me like some charity case, just because I’m…” Marcel trailed off, pointing to his pink scars. “That’s all I’m known for, Slanek. I don’t want that.”

“That doesn’t define you. Anyone who thinks it does can ‘fuck right off’, to use your phrase.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry if I made you feel excluded, buddy.”

“I’m sorry too.”

“All is forgiven. So, now that we’re good…can I pick you up?”

As soon as he saw my ears flick, Marcel scooped me up in his arms. I felt joyful as he carried me to the couch, unashamed of our bond. The predator switched off the gaming console, noticing my sigh of relief; I wasn’t sure I wanted to be in his grip while he was focused on simulated death.

“C’mon man! We had one more round,” Tyler protested.

“I felt sorry for you. Mercy rule.” Marcel scratched my forehead, and the other soldier smiled at me too. Somehow, the expression looked much more ferocious on his lips than my human’s. “Besides—”

Our room was plunged into darkness, as the lights snapped out in unison. The transport lurched beneath my paws, and the long-limbed humans reached for nearby furniture to steady themselves. Gojid orbital defenses must’ve nailed us, which meant we entered their orbit.

In the dim lighting, the predators’ faces were cloaked in shadow; it bore a striking resemblance to our prehistoric beasts, lurking in the night. The only thing I could see was the faint glint of Marcel’s eyes, and the rapid movement of his arms. He draped me over his shoulder, while terror numbed my mind.

I could hardly even squirm in his firm grip; not that my body was obeying my brain’s commands. I wanted to protest, but couldn’t manage anything more than squeaks of gibberish.

Slanek, don’t pass out like you did against the Arxur. You’re supposed to be watching out for Marc, I scolded myself. Do you have to freeze, every time you’re in imminent danger? How are you going to make it in a warzone?

Another tremor pounded the transport, and the overhead ceiling creaked. The shields buzzed from the impact's dispersal, but some of the damage trickled through. This Gojid barrage meant an early departure for Terran soldiers launching to the surface; the main vessel wasn’t going to be able to get us as close as they wanted.

“I’m surprised the Gojids found us so soon,” Tyler barked. “What about the ships we sent ahead as decoys? To draw their defenses away?”

I lowered my ears. “I’m sure they predicted your predatory tactics. Ruses and deceit…that’s all you guys.”

Marcel’s fingers tightened around my stomach. “You don’t have to make it sound nefarious, Slanek. Everything we do isn’t predator this, predator that. We just want a tactical advantage.”

“Well, you’re a predator, whether you like it or not. I don’t mean it to be unkind,” I responded. “The Arxur are ambush predators too. We’ve been conditioned to expect them to use stealth, or lure us away.”

Tyler snorted. “We’re not ambush predators though. We’re persi…”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” I gaped as Marcel jabbed a heel into the other human’s boot, and caused Tyler’s words to break off. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

“Ow, shit. I’m sorry, man. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Wait, you’re what?” I asked in a tentative voice. “Marcel, why did you stop him? You…you’re s-scaring me, roaring like that.”

My eyes had adjusted to the lighting enough to see my human gritting his teeth. I had been around the Terrans long enough to know that was no smile. It was too strained. He was terrified that immediate disclosure would freak me out.

What secret was Marcel hiding? Didn’t humans have to be ambush predators, primarily? All of our scientists were certain that was their only viable hunting strategy. They were slow, and their brains were their only advantage.

“Do you trust me, Slanek?” he whispered.

I nuzzled his shoulder. “Yes.”

Marcel turned into a hangar bay. “Do you think I’m an…abomination? Like Sovlin and Zarn did?”

“No. You know I don’t.”

“Well, I’d like to keep it that way. I’ll tell you, but not right now. Then, it can be our secret. Okay?”

“F-fine. But I’m not going to forget.”

My friend sighed, and scratched his fresh buzz-cut with frustration. I could tell from how his strides quickened that he didn’t want to convey that information at all. Something about this whole exchange unsettled me deep in my bones.

Wouldn’t any explanation of humanity’s evolution be a good thing? In their position, I would want to put as many scientific questions to rest as I could. It would help galactic leaders make an informed decision about Terran society and inclinations.

Marcel set me on the floor, and slipped a bulky harness over his shoulders. I scrutinized his body language, trying to determine why he wouldn't confide in me. If anything, not defaulting to ambush predation distanced humanity from the Arxur. What could be more heinous than stealth?

“Now, on the topic of trust,” the red-haired human began. “I’m going to strap you to my vest and sedate you. Everything will be alright, I promise.”

“What?” I scrambled backward, and collided tail-first with Tyler. “Why? You…don’t need to knock me out.”

Marcel cinched his vest straps. “You know we’re jumping out of a shuttle from the upper atmosphere. I don’t think you want to be awake for that.”

“W…you…wha…what? NO! I THOUGHT THAT WAS A JOKE!”

“We don’t joke about our crazy military shit,” Tyler chuckled.

My entire body quivered with dread, and my tail bunched up between my legs. Bile rose in my throat, a byproduct of the nausea racking my stomach. This was suicide!

Nobody in their right mind, or even the Arxur, would choose to freefall from the clouds. Tree-dwelling predators like the humans should have some fear of heights, or at least of slipping to their deaths.

Maybe that’s what kind of predators they were? Leaping from great heights onto their prey?

“You won’t remember any of it,” Marcel insisted, creeping toward me. “You’ll just go to sleep, and you’ll wake up on the ground. Leaving you here is not an option, okay?”

The Terran ship pitched to the side, as it was pounded by another enemy assault. The shields rendered a negligible difference this time, and the thunderous jolt made my molars rattle. I squeezed my eyes shut, and tried to think.

My options were to go up in flames, or to enter a drug-induced state of helplessness, as a predator dragged me toward the ground. The only image in my mind was myself as a splat of blood on the pavement.

What if the sedative wore off before our deaths, and my last moments were hurtling through purple skies at terminal velocity?

I just couldn’t do it, even for Marcel. I was going to tell the humans to leave me, and then figure out something else. As a Venlil, there was always the option for me to surrender myself. The Gojids would take me as a prisoner if I took a shuttle over there, alone…

There was a prick in my neck, and I yelped at the unexpected pain. My eyes blinked open to see Marcel stooped beside me, inserting a needle into my skin. The human already unloaded the entire syringe? With the tranquilizers flowing through my veins, I was going to be at the predators’ mercy.

A scream of horror came from my throat. “NO! PLEASE, DON'T! Marc…”

My eyelids felt impossibly heavy, and my vision shrank to a pinhole. The last thing I remembered was collapsing into the human’s arms, certain he was about to kill us both.

*********************************************************************************

22. Memory transcription subject: Slanek, Venlil Space Corps

Date [standardized human time]: September 23, 2136

I stirred to an array of screams, chaotic and unhinged; the perishing squeals of prey falling at a predator’s claws. My ears keyed in to pounding pawsteps on the grass. Those were unmistakable thumps of animals running around in terror. Bullet spurts were also a constant, cropping up from both scattered Terran friendlies and lucid Gojids.

I’m alive, and I think I’m in one-piece. Hooray?

By the looks of it, the enemy were fleeing from a military base by the hundreds. It seemed to be a fifty-fifty split, which of the Gojids were fighting and which were on the run.

All the sentries and watchtowers, set up to counter a previous Arxur siege, were useless against an aerial drop. It was embarrassingly easy for the Terran forces to take control of the military institution, and continue to expand their perimeter. There was no organized response like the humans expected from a predominant Federation power.

No one accounted for predators falling from the sky, and landing smack dab in the middle of their fortresses. Many Gojid soldiers were in a panic; several had tossed their weapons aside, even as officers tried to restore order. A few individuals were lying prostrate on the ground. Others ran for seemingly unharmed ground vehicles, only to find the devious humans slashed their tires.

Anyone who fled to buildings for shelter was tracked by a Terran breach team. Predatory soldiers flushed their quarry out, adept in the art of clearing structures. Their arboreal roots only bolstered their mastery of ground warfare; there was no safe haven amidst their shocking incursion.

The Gojids at least had a chance against the Arxur. They could shoot down their shuttles, scout for their traps, and prepare for their advances, I thought. This is something else. This degree of surprise factor will only work once.

It was horrifying to look around at the enemy corpses littering the premises. Many were riddled with bullets, mowed down without remorse by the ravenous Terran troopers. The ghastly sights, of organs perforating skin and blood pooling from agonized soldiers, sickened me to the core. Predators were simply everywhere, corralling their prey to perfection.

Was this really what humans practiced throughout their history? Was that disposition hard-wired into their DNA?

“Slanek, you’re awake!” Tyler’s voice came from behind me, making me jump. “Take it easy, at least until the drugs wear off. We’ll get you a pistol when you’re more alert.”

Panic seized at my heart. “Where is Marcel?!”

“Over there,” he replied, pointing.

Marcel was laying on his side with a communicator pressed to his face. A scoped rifle was tucked under his armpit, poised to pick off any Gojids attempting to return to the battle. The human found a group of enemy soldiers assembling out of his range, and watched with unblinking eyes. He barked out coordinates in a throaty snarl.

A small aircraft, which didn’t seem large enough to fit a pilot, descended over the enemy gathering. Its dimensions were minuscule enough to evade Gojid air defenses. I assumed it was… some sort of Terran murder robot?

Sure enough, kinetic fire rained down with incessant whirring, followed by a succinct missile explosion. Smoke accumulated in the air, as body parts, guts, and earth were dispelled from the epicenter. The humans didn’t want the enemy to have time to form ranks or generate a plan.

“This is their military?” Marcel muttered. “When we landed and their fellow soldiers started to be taken out around them…there was just mass panic. I don’t understand.”

“You’re seeing true fear. Everything becomes a free-for-all, and you lose your sense of self,” I growled. “Forget reason, or thought; you’re just drowning.”

The concept of a stampede was intuitive as blinking or breathing, to any decent-sized herbivore. In situations where bizarre and unanticipated threats took hold, it was easy to sink into a mindless daze. Feeling surrounded, races of notable intelligence were reduced to a herd of primitive animals.

Every instinct demands to run, but you don’t know where to run to. One person races off in a direction, and pandemonium erupts. Everyone follows their lead, because they don’t know what else to do. Individuals like me, with an inclination to freeze, often got trampled as collateral.

When I joined the Venlil Space Corps, a good chunk of our training was dedicated to overriding our flighty instincts. Virtual reality simulations of the Arxur, closing in on all sides, were common. A commander couldn’t manage a total breakdown of military order, with soldiers fleeing the battlefield in droves.

The predators startling the young Gojid conscripts, and simultaneously closing off escape routes, set up the perfect scenario for a stampede. Honestly, that was where large herbivores were at their most dangerous. Raw instinct could encourage groups to plow through the threat. Humans concentrated fire on any Gojid clusters charging, causing them to turn away.

“I hope you can forgive me for dragging you out a spacecraft, against your will.” Marcel pursed his lips. “It wasn’t my first choice.”

“I’m glad you’re not hurt.” My ears laid back against my head, unsettled by the notion. “That would’ve been awful, to wake up and find that out.”

“Aw,” Tyler purred, with a monstrous grin. “The Venlil are really sweet, aren’t they? I kind of want one.”

“Don’t phrase it like that. Venlil are good companions, but they’re not something you fucking own,” my predator growled.

Despite their chatter, neither of the humans’ eyes left the battlefield. A group of Gojid soldiers were hiding behind a large tree, a few hundred paces away. These hostiles retained their wits enough to shoot at any Terrans in the vicinity. Stray rounds impacted the hillock, whiskers shy of our position, and forced the predators to hunker down.

Marcel’s breathing hitched, and his gun barrel swiveled in slight increments. Calling in the coordinates would waste precious seconds; the primate thought he could take the shot himself. One finger crept over the trigger, as a hint of a smirk tugged at his face. Was my friend enjoying this skirmish? Perhaps as much as those “video games?”

There is another side to him, to all of humanity, that I didn’t appreciate. I’d be curious if we ran those famed brain experiments, right now. Their aggression is concerning. They look…hungry.

Tyler followed his partner’s lead, pressing his chin into the dirt. The blond-haired male lined up his own shot, and the two humans synced their motions. Ever the cooperative pack predators, they placed a pair of bullets through their targets’ heads in quick succession.

I recoiled in disgust as I saw how pleased the Terrans were with themselves. There shouldn’t be anything enjoyable about murder.

“Base air defenses are disabled and under UN control. Unit 13, proceed into the Gojid merchant settlement. We expect hostile reinforcements by nightfall.” A male voice on the other end of the radio crackled to life. “Commence occupation of the city, and establish a base of operations when the area is secure. Be advised civilians are fleeing en masse.”

My jaw almost dropped to the dirt. Why was the Terran commander advising his troops of the civilians fleeing? So they could pick them off or intercept them? Those were families vacating their homes with tiny children; terrified people who didn’t want to end up as a predator’s evening supper.

“Slanek, the CO said that so we use discretion which targets we shoot. It’s difficult to tell a fleeing civilian from an army coward right now.” Marcel grunted, without even turning his head. “Sometimes, I wonder what you think we are. The only civilians we want are political figures.”

I blinked in confusion. Did I say that out loud? I was certain I hadn’t. It was almost like the human could read my mind; my thoughts must be quite transparent. Most likely, the unnerved emotions had showed on my face. This warfare business left me shaken up, since it showcased the ruthless predator in them all.

“W-why are you invading the settlement then?” I stammered.

“Seizing this particular city will disrupt their supply chain. Forcing a surrender is what we want, without a long-term conflict. We can’t occupy every square inch of the planet. We have to be selective with our targets.”

The two humans dusted themselves off, and crawled back down the grassy knoll. My heartbeat raced as we packed in with the rest of their unit; many dilated eyes turned toward me with interest. In stark contrast to the vessels I served on, there was not a single soldier panicking or crying. There was an unnatural amount of composure and structure.

My mind wandered as we exited the north gate, trundling toward the walled settlement. Ground vehicles, which my human explained had been “airdropped” as well, served as an armored method to clear the path. It was a short ride to the city outskirts. There was so much carnage; I saw a handful of Terrans dragging an enemy away with a bag over their head.

“What are you doing with the surrendering Gojids? And the wounded ones?” I blurted.

“You see the people with the red cross band on their sleeves? Those are medics,” Tyler explained. “If you get hurt by those spiky freaks, God forbid, go see them.”

Marcel sighed. “Anyone who surrenders is being held as a prisoner. We’re treating any human and Gojid soldiers still alive.”

Our procession rolled to an unforeseen halt. Tree branches, barricades, and spike strips were laid out in a desperate attempt to obstruct the road. The Terrans disembarked their vehicles, and Marcel propped my paws around his neck to spare me from walking. My stomach lurched as I got a glimpse inside the settlement.

There were two routes out of the city, according to the maps Venlil intelligence provided. The main gate was large enough to fit three vehicles side-by-side; with tens of thousands of people trying to evacuate, it turned into a bottleneck.

Civilian corpses were splayed by the gates, and others were beaten badly enough to be immobilized. Many of the bodies were children, with skulls cracked open and limbs shattered to pieces. Half-conscious individuals staggered or crawled away from the approaching soldiers.

They were “fish in a barrel”, as the Terrans say. Did the predators do this? Was Marcel lying about his commander’s intent?

I realized as we drew closer that several of the cuts looked like clawmarks, and that pawprints were stamped into the blood pools. This was the aftermath of a citywide stampede, not a predatory massacre. The inhabitants' desperation to escape, before the predators' arrival, was something I could only imagine. The humans, to their credit, didn’t seem jubilant about the civilian casualties.

“Holy shit,” Tyler breathed.

Marcel lowered his rifle. “What kind of parent leaves their child behind, Slanek? To bleed out in the streets.”

I bowed my head in shame. “I thought you guys did that for a second. I’m sorry.”

My human ignored me with a huff, and marched over to one of the Gojid children. She was crying for her mother, while tears poured down her face. Her leg was pulverized from prolonged trampling, and cuts laced across her body.

Marcel knelt beside the kid, removing his helmet with slow motions. “Hi, sweetie. I’m Marcel. What’s your name?”

“D-don’t eat me! HELP! MOMMY!” she sobbed.

“Nobody is going to hurt you.” The human removed a Venlil plushy with oversized features from his duffel bag. He handed it to the child, a patient look in his eyes. “What’s your name?”

I wasn’t even going to ask why the primate was carrying that toy on his person. The Gojid toddler eyed it with suspicion, before hugging the soft fluff against her body. My presence, riding on the scary predator’s back, might serve as a soothing factor as well.

“Nulia,” she said with a sniffle. “My mom says you’re bad people.”

“That’s a pretty name, Nulia. Parents are wrong about lots of things,” Marcel replied.

Nulia whined in pain. “Where did you get those scars, Mawsle? You look mean.”

“One of your officers tortured him because he looked scary,” I growled. “Marcel has some nerve, to be born with forward-facing eyes. They threw him in a cage, electrocuted him, and—”

“Slanek! She’s a child.” The human drew an inhaler from his pack and passed it to Nulia. “Breathe this. It’ll help with the pain.”

“You were hurt just because your eyes are ugly?” She suckled on the canister, surveying the predator with earnestness. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

Marcel blinked, a far-off look in his gaze. “It’s not fair at all. Humans just want your leaders not to kill us. We’re here to stop them from destroying our homes and our loved ones.”

Other humans were tending to downed civilians as well, scrambling to set up a temporary medical tent. There was the side of the predators I was fond of: the empathetic nurturers. That wasn’t the typical flavor of an Arxur siege; no rogue soldiers were attempting to sample Gojid flesh, or salivating at the blood.

With the grays, the cost of surrender was always higher than fighting on. No matter how steep the penalties. If they saw Terran mercy, the Gojidi Union might be willing to admit defeat. The actual evidence suggested these predators were civilized, with rules and boundaries.

“So, if you don’t want to eat me…can you fix my leg?” Nulia asked.

My friend’s gaze lit up. “Yeah! We’ll try to find your parents after.”

The humans had no motive to help, yet their trained killers were falling over themselves to render life-saving aid. It was striking how their instinct led them to prioritize and coddle the children. If it was like this across the globe, the Terrans’ civilian policy would worm its way into the local broadcasts.

Wouldn't it be ironic, if the tide of public opinion began to shift? Captain Sovlin must be having a coronary right about now.

*********************************************************************

23. Memory transcription subject: Slanek, Venlil Space Corps

Date [standardized human time]: September 27, 2136

Waves of Gojid reinforcements arrived after the predators’ initial takeover. The humans’ strategic advantage was that they could be liberal when hurling artillery into enemy ranks. Our opponents were more hesitant, bearing the knowledge that civilians were trapped within city limits.

To their credit, the Gojids adapted to the novel predatory tactics quickly. To counteract the unmanned UN ships, the fresh troops carried out manual surface-to-air missile launches. That made precision strikes a more challenging affair. From what I heard, most Gojid politicians escaped to an unknown bunker location, which meant the Terrans were also thwarted on their main objective.

The humans resolved to hold their perimeter, exacting a heavy price in blood for every inch they were forced to concede. They took up guard at positions with open sight-lines, and made Gojid advances suicide. With neither side able to make progress, the situation became a stand-off. Our rivals must be steaming at their failure to reclaim any significant landmarks.

“Slanek, you need to eat something. You haven’t touched your plate. We’re on next watch,” Tyler mumbled through a mouthful of food.

The blond human was shoveling brown crumbles down his gullet, one after the other. This person, that I knew and traveled with, was consuming meat. Real, actual flesh bits, like it was the most ordinary thing in the world. No wonder Marcel had taken Nulia away for mealtime, and told me I should eat alone.

I didn’t want to be impolite when Tyler asked if I wanted company. The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind, that he would indulge in such a savage feast. My appetite vanished as soon as I saw him bite into those rations. There were so many animal pieces, contaminating the entire meal. The queasiness in my stomach was swelling upward, like a thrashing wave at high tide.

He’s eating the burnt skin and muscle of a dead animal. Crunching it between his fangs. Fucking hell, I cursed internally. This predator is swallowing those carcass shavings without hesitation. He’s enjoying it, even.

Acid gurgled in my throat, and I spewed my stomach contents onto the ground. The human’s blue eyes widened in alarm, and he rushed to my side. The flesh-eating beast patted my back, whispering soothing words. He dabbed a towel against my mouth, wiping off the vomit specks.

“It’s okay, buddy,” Tyler hummed. “I didn’t realize you were sick.”

How could this predator try to emulate normal behavior, after what he just did? All I could think was that he was a disgusting animal, and that he was probably breathing flesh particles onto my neck. It was all I could do not to kick my hindlegs into his carnivorous stomach.

I tried to spit the taste of puke out of my mouth. “I…want you to leave.”

“Um, yeah, alright. Let me get Marcel first, and he can check on you.”

I breathed a sigh of relief as the human exited the tent, and tried not to look at the meal remains he left behind. Most of these predators here ate meat, didn’t they? It was a standard part of their diet; Marcel was the rare exception that refrained from such horrid consumption. I couldn’t have the vegetarian back at my side fast enough.

My human returned with a sleeping Nulia tucked against his chest. The Gojid child had her leg fixed in a cast, and seemed to be in better spirits after a few days. Remarkably, her spines were laying flat on her back, despite being in a predator’s clutches. Marcel rubbed the bristles, careless to the fact that they could extend and prickle him at any moment.

“Marc,” I whined. “Please…”

His hazel eyes landed on the table. “What the fuck, man? You brought predator food around Slanek?”

Tyler glanced at his plate. “Oh…that’s why he threw up? Shit, I’m sorry. Slanek, I’m real sorry, bro.”

“Get the fuck out of here!” Marcel growled. “And for God’s sake, take your shit-ass MRE with you.”

The other human grabbed his food, and rushed away as my friend shot him a blistering glare. The redhead cupped a hand over Nulia’s eyes as she stirred, so she wouldn’t see what Tyler had been munching on. I don’t think I was ever going to be able to look at that meat-eating predator the same. That savage display made my skin crawl.

I lowered my ears. “I’m sorry for making you yell at your friend.”

“Shh, it’s okay, Slanek. Let’s go outside and get some fresh air,” Marcel said. “You’ll feel better. Then, we’ll clean up that mess. Everything is going to be fine.”

My mind began to settle once we wandered out beneath the starlight. The red-haired human tickled Nulia’s nose, making her giggle. It was clear he took a shine to the Gojid child, despite the feelings he harbored toward Sovlin and her species as a whole. I didn’t understand how his brain operated sometimes.

“If you’re happy and you know it, clap your paws.” The human sang in a low voice, shooting a glance toward me. The kid squealed and slapped him on the chest, which I don’t think was the instruction. “If you’re happy—”

Two bright orange flashes detonated on the horizon, striking the most-populated regions of the settlement. Marcel’s song died out as he observed the explosions, and my own eyes widened with horror. I thought the Terrans were opposed to an orbital bombardment!

Why had these predators gone through the trouble of an invasion, just to do that? Were they lashing out because they failed to capture their desired political targets?

More bombs fell close behind, striking points across the skyline, with the undeniable intention of scoring casualties. Aircraft ripped through the sky, dispersing a trail of interceptors to avoid being shot down. They were searching for a flat stretch of land on the city outskirts. Most likely, they wanted to touch down a shuttle and dispatch ground troops.

The humans don’t have aircraft like that, and they didn’t land like that. Which means…

“All Terran forces, report to your extraction point. The UN fleet is engaging Arxur hostiles above-world.” Terse orders carried over the radio, confirming my worst suspicions. “But, they have already attained orbital supremacy. Their intent appears to be glassing the planet.”

Any sign of weakness was the Arxur’s invitation to pounce. The sadistic predators must’ve sensed that something was off from the destruction of the Gojid border outposts. As they advanced to the core systems, the lack of resistance from patrol ships or FTL disruptors confirmed those suspicions. The Terran incursion left this system vulnerable to the true threat.

Fear coursed through my veins, and the nausea began to simmer again. Facing the grays after this miserable, irredeemable week was a dreadful thought. I felt like I was about to snap as things were.

Meanwhile, the UN soldiers in the camp grabbed their weapons. They held no such reservations about drawing reptilian blood. I suspected fighting the Arxur was the reason most humans joined the Terran reserves.

“Not good. We have to evacuate as many people as we can,” my human grumbled. “But, I’m just going to get you two out of here. You’re all that matters to me.”

Marcel withdrew his hand as Nulia’s spines bristled, but didn’t seem angered by the blood spots dotting his palm. He balanced the Gojid child in his arms, and knelt to let me climb onto his back. The weight proved difficult for him to handle. The predator grunted with exertion, shuffling forward in slow steps.

The child’s life comes first, obviously. We can’t abandon her to a predator’s whims like her mother did. Marc doesn’t want to leave either of us behind, but it’s too much.

I disembarked. It was uncertain whether I could run more than a few minutes, or keep up with a human’s long strides. But Nulia had no hope, if left to her own devices; with her maimed leg, she couldn’t walk on her own.

Marcel knelt back down. “Slanek, no. I am not going anywhere without you. Listen… I can handle this.”

“Take the kid. I’ll be fine,” I managed.

My slender legs trotted after the departing Terran soldiers, trusting that I could follow their footsteps. Two hands grabbed me from behind, and I yelped in alarm. My head snapped around, teeth bared with the intention to bite my assailant. There was a moment of hesitation as I realized it was Tyler; the very human Marcel just chased out of my tent.

A shudder rippled down my spine. The last thing I wanted was for this flesh-eater to stick his grubby paws on me. But it seemed to be the best solution for Marcel’s sake, so I decided to tolerate the unwanted contact.

My friend hesitated, seeing me squirm in discomfort. “You’ve got Slanek, Ty?”

“Yep. No man left behind. We all stick together,” Tyler replied.

The blond predator shifted me onto his back, and he jogged off with Marcel close behind. The humans’ breathing grew a bit more laborious, although I’d hardly call it panting. The predators ran for minutes without carving a dent into their stamina; there were merely a few beads of sweat on Tyler’s neck. That was odd.

UN soldiers fanned out at the front of the entourage, on the lookout for threats. They were shepherding the vulnerable individuals behind them, rather than an “every man for himself” mentality. Terran medics were evacuating any wounded or captives that could stand, including their own hobbled soldiers. They had their fair share of human injuries to grapple with.

Some Gojid prisoners attempted to flee as soon as they were released. They appeared in decent shape, for having been in predatory custody. The humans made little attempt to stop them, watching them go with head shakes. The evacuation couldn’t slow for fearful idiots unwilling to act in their own survival interest.

A decent percentage heeded the Terran warning about the Arxur threat, falling into the pack. Perhaps they felt indebted to the predators, since many were civilians who would be dead without human intervention. It was unsurprising to see that Marcel wasn’t the only one carrying an alien child.

“MAWZY!” Nulia wailed. “Where are we going?”

“We’re going somewhere safe, darling,” Marcel panted, accepting the nickname. I think if I tried to call him that, his reaction would be quite different. “I need you to be brave. Think of it as a great adventure! Nothing can happen to you when you’re with me, okay?”

I watched my human from my perch on Tyler’s back. There was nothing adventurous about fleeing from an orbital raid. It was possible that nobody would make it off-world alive. A bomb could land atop the group right now and disintegrate us.

More Arxur craft descended through the atmosphere, eager to collect dazed survivors as slaves. Pummel the cities across the globe, fill a few transports with cattle, and then finish off the rest. This was a story I’d seen before.

“Why did so many of the Arxur shuttles get through, when ours couldn’t?” I whispered, more to myself than anything.

Tyler sighed. “We…we did take control of the Gojid defenses. And we haven’t learned how to use them.”

My ears curled back, as an explosion rocked the city wall a kilometer away. I was relieved we had escaped the confines with such swiftness; a few minutes slower and we would be toast. The humans carved a path through the local orchards, which took up much of the land outside the settlement. Grain fields rested past rows of plump trees, and I figured Terran craft would crunch down atop the stalks.

At least we can land ships now. The sooner we’re off this forsaken world, the better, I thought. I can’t imagine how the Gojids feel, knowing their homeworld is all but lost. The Terrans must look friendly by comparison.

Agitated chatter spawned at the head of the pack, and the humans slowed their pace. My gaze locked onto the galaxy’s apex predators, who were spread out in search of lone civilians. I had never seen one of the Arxur in person. It was merciful that we spotted them first, but they still stood between us and our presumed extraction point.

Their tough gray skin was taut and scaly, forming ridges along their spines. Their long v-shaped snouts were perfect for snapping up prey; serrated fangs jutted from their mouths, even when they were closed. Onyx eyes were dialed to slits, and tracked prey with jittery motions. Their bipedal plodding allowed them to lunge forward with unbelievable speed.

My eyes zeroed in on an Arxur soldier, tearing into an elderly Gojid’s stomach. The poor guy was still alive, and his screams were audible from here. Younger specimen were being dragged away, to serve breeding purposes or toil as slaves.

“Monsters,” Nulia cried. “Way scarier than Mawsle. I want to go home!”

Marcel covered her eyes. “Don’t look, Nulia. We have to escape from the monsters. They…destroyed your home.”

“FIX IT!” she sobbed. “Fix it now!”

“I can’t. I wish I could.”

The Terran soldiers leading the posse crept forward, and waved for the group to continue. The Arxur’s nostrils flared as we drew within scent range. Something flashed in their eyes as they locked onto the humans. Was that…interest? Did they recognize the puny primates as predators?

UN forces opened fire on the grays, and tried to seek refuge behind the orchard trees. They were drawing the reptilians’ attention to provide cover for our escape. We darted out into the open, and I prayed that the vessels circling overhead were friendlies. As if on cue, three ships with the Terran insignia alighted on the grain field.

Our human protectors were locked in a vicious firefight, at the edge of my periphery. A few of them were strewn out in lifeless positions. The time they bought us was a mere thirty seconds; we needed to be off the ground as soon as possible. The Arxur had wizened up to the diversion, and lobbed their shots at the civilian entourage.

It is times like these I wish I had the humans’ narrow field of vision. I can see all of the terror and death happening around us at once.

Tyler pushed himself to his maximum speed, and dove into the open side door of a transport. I dropped to the floor and crawled toward the rear of the aircraft. The blond human asked if I was okay, repeating my name several times, but I ignored him.

My gaze was focused on the entrance, watching as several passengers climbed in. Dozens of people pushed into the craft, packing in on each other. The Gojids were eyeing any boarding predators warily, but after what they saw outside, they realized the humans had better self-control.

Wait…where was my friend? The engine revved to life, and I screamed at the pilots to stop. Oblivious to any inherent danger, I raced toward a window.

Marcel was shouldering a wounded human alongside a medic, while still clinging to the kid. Bullets sailed around him, but he refused to abandon his compatriot. He hoisted the half-conscious predator into the vehicle, then staggered onboard with the doctor.

My human collapsed on the floor, groaning. The expression on his face spoke of pain, and I hoped it was just exhaustion. I dashed to his side, and whimpered at the sight of crimson blood pooling around him.

“Mawsle, your arm is wet,” Nulia said. “And sticky.”

“Is it now?” he murmured. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure…sure it’s fine.”

There was another red mark on his thigh. My predator appeared to have been shot twice during the fray. Why did Marcel insist on playing the hero, every time the Arxur turned up?

These wounds hit non-vital areas at least, from what I knew about human anatomy. As long as the bleeding was stopped, he should survive. The spacecraft began to lift off, and I shouted for a medic.

The Terrans’ efforts were undeniable, but the Gojid populace numbered a few billion. If even a hundred thousand made it off-world miraculously, it was simple math to figure the astronomical casualties. A great Federation power was down to a few colonies, and an endangered species overnight.

Perhaps most concerning, the Arxur knew there was another predator now. My eyes floated back to the window, watching the gray beasts shrink to the size of insects. I suspected tracking down the Earthlings just became their top priority.

*******************************************************************

24. Memory transcription subject: Governor Tarva of the Venlil Republic

Date [standardized human time]: September 28, 2136

18 days. That is how long had passed since the minutes-long speech, and the human ambassador hadn’t been outside of this room since. I tried to occupy Noah by teaching him alien games, and watching the happenings on TV. But while he never voiced his complaints, I could sense his agitation.

Chauson visited once a day, logging every aspect of Terran culture he could. The Zurulian prime minster appointed him ambassador to Earth, and the scientist was eager to squeeze everything from the opportunity. He subjected Noah to a myriad of personality tests, as well as asking him philosophical and ethical queries.

The chocolate-skinned human was happy to play along, since it distracted him from the waiting. When Chauson gave him a standard academic test in math and sciences, he was surprised to find Noah scored in the 80th percentile. That was much higher than expected, for a species that was hundreds of years behind our knowledge.

The Zurulian testified before the Federation assemblage today, sharing his novel findings. With any luck, he would be the final speaker. These discussions had dragged on far too long for my liking. At least that signaled it wasn’t an easy, unanimous verdict to war with humanity.

Noah yawned, penning a final sentence in his journal. The predator had been logging his thoughts throughout this experience, but would not let me view a word. I would love to know his unfiltered opinions; his secretiveness rubbed me the wrong way.

“I’m tired, Tarva. Wake me up if the execution squad arrives,” the Terran said sarcastically. “Good night.”

I studied the dark circles under his eyes. “Good night, Noah. Sweet dreams.”

The human tucked his notebook into a table drawer, and shuffled out of the living area. I waited for the sound of his footsteps to recede. Running water reverberated for a few seconds, before the spring of the bulky predator hitting the mattress reached my ears. My heartrate quickened, as the temptation to sift through his journal called me again.

Noah never has to know I looked. You know the aliens’ fear has taken its toll on him. Ultimately, it’ll help with being supportive and empathetic, right?

I took a deep breath, and counted back from 200 in my mind. Satisfied that the human was drifting off, my paws meandered over to the table. The drawer slid out without a sound, and I lifted the diary. There was nothing wrong with just a peek, surely.

I flipped open to a random page, and began reading the first entry my eyes landed on.

~Sept 17

An accidental smile sent Chauson fleeing in terror, and my heart is heavy with guilt. I’m surprised it took this long to happen. Tarva had to chase him down and explain what the expression means. The Zurulian has tried to accept me, and he shrugged off my apology. But he’s afraid of us, deep down, like everyone is.

Why didn’t I wear the mask? Why can’t I fit in, anywhere?

When I look in the mirror, I’ve begun to see myself as a predator. If there is a future where humanity can be a healthy contributor to the galaxy, I don’t know if I picture it anymore. We want it, but that’s not enough. The simple fact of the matter is, nobody wants us.

Even the Venlil are still frightened by us. I feel like I’m walking on eggshells around them. Trying so hard not to break them, because they’re fragile and innocent. Sometimes, I let my guard down, but that rarely ends well.

Tarva said straight to my face that she thought I was a nasty-looking creature. No matter how much I try to forget about it, through all the laughs and conversation, that is what she thinks of me. Any feelings of attachment are one-way, and I’d do well to remember that.

Yes, there is a shared history now, and the Venlil wish no harm upon us. But they cannot be normal around monsters. Perhaps a better man, a better species, would cut them free…and never show their face again. Instead, I’ll just return to this lie, and pretend that we can make friends in the stars.

Dream on.

I recoiled, guilt rushing through my veins. These writings sounded depressed and bitter, unlike the optimist persona he projected. Was Noah’s self-image that low, because of me? That comment that I made to Recel wasn’t at all what I thought of him now.

Perhaps cabin fever had placed wild ideas in his head, and his outlook was cheerier before the speech. My claws tugged back through several pages, until I reached an earlier entry.

~Sept 6

Recel is a wreck from being near me, but what am I to do? Throw myself into space? The visor, the mask, none of it makes a difference. My face feels constricted already, and the nerves are making me sick to my stomach.

My indecisiveness, on what bits of humanity to include, might be the death of me: literally. The Federation will have a field day upon our arrival. I wonder if seeing me on television will be traumatic for small children? Perhaps I will be posterized as the face of the new enemy.

The questions the Venlil asked when I first arrived left me taken aback, and this will be worse. Governor Tarva is kind to help. Because of me, her species has lost every friend, and are left with a lot of primitive predators for company. Humanity disappoints on every front; the regrets must cross her mind daily. Yet she’s too far committed now, so she sticks it out.

My speech feels pathetic and inadequate before I’ve ever given it. I don’t know why it hurts so much, when I understand they’re all just afraid. Predators aren’t supposed to have feelings, not…

A pointed cough came from behind me. The human was standing with crossed arms, watching me with a livid glare.

“That’s private, Tarva!” Noah snapped, and my ears lowered against my head. That was the first time I ever heard the ambassador raise his voice. “You can’t just go through my things!”

“You were supposed to be sleeping!” I took a few steps back instinctively, flinging the book on the table. “I thought you seemed agitated. And I knew you wouldn’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“So I tell you ‘no’ when you ask to read it, and you go snooping anyways?” he growled. “Well congrats, you’ve dug up some dirt on the predator.”

“Noah…you know I’m so proud of you, don’t you?” I whined, tucking my tail between my legs. “You have no idea how glad I am that we met. Your kind never disappointed me. Humanity are wonderful friends, that I am siding against the entire galaxy to protect.”

“You’re trying to do the right thing, Tarva. I appreciate your morality and compassion, infinitely. But let’s not pretend anymore. You have to repress your instincts all the time around me, and you find my appearance loathsome.”

“My initial reaction was negative, yes, but I find you quite endearing. I didn’t personally request you to represent your species because I’m disgusted by you. I’ve done nothing but worry about your safety since we came to Aafa.”

“You…you mean that? Really? You’re telling me you don’t still think of me as a predator.”

“You’re my kind and charming friend. That’s what I see when I look at you. You are the predator… who convinced me to give humanity a chance. I don’t think anyone else could have a personality bright enough to shine through that fear.”

Couldn’t Noah understand our skittishness was a part of us, just like some predatory traits were part of him? There were certain attributes that were difficult to accept, but surely humanity could see how hard we were trying.

The last thing I wanted was for Venlil instincts to have a detrimental effect on his mental health. Initiating contact should prove that there were few lingering fears in my mind.

I flung my paws around Noah’s waist, and his breathing tensed up. There was brief hesitation from the ambassador; his stance emanated tiredness and frustration. The human wrapped his arms around me, after I curled my claws into his skin insistently, and relaxed into my comforting embrace.

The Terran ambassador withdrew. “Tarva, I am serious. Don’t go through my personal items without permission, ever again.”

“I know. Sorry,” I muttered.

“Hm. It’s impossible to stay angry at you.” Noah shook his head with disdain. “You could get away with just about anything.”

The human stretched out on the couch, closing his predatory eyes. The lines on his face eased, and I watched as his breathing slowed. My own eyelids began to feel heavy, listening to the harsh rumbling of his snores. The big guy was so gentle and sweet, so intelligent and reliable…

As I was about to drift off, the door to the diplomatic suite crashed open. Kolshian soldiers stood in the entryway; their eyes stretched wide when the predator snapped upright. Noah tried to collect himself, and raised his hands in confusion. Seeing that the guards were waving at him to come, he reached for his visor.

I glared at him, and snatched it away from his hand. I threw the metal at the wall, as hard as I could; it broke into two pieces with a satisfying crunch. Noah looked stunned, and apprehensive at the prospect of approaching the guards without it. He swallowed, then grabbed for his mask. My tiny claws scrabbled at his arm, and I shook my head in the human “no” gesture.

The Terran ambassador looked uncertain, but stood up from the couch. The wary Kolshians weren’t attempting to blind him this time. A soldier barked the word “follow”, and began retracing the path to the assembly hall. Heated discussions were creating a clamor inside the chamber; we could hear it from a hundred paces away.

The guards pointed at the podium, and Noah took obedient steps to the stage. Surprised exclamations rose from the crowd, as they saw the human in his uncensored form. Jerulim, the agitated Krakotl from the earlier meeting, was emitting furious squawks at those provocative eyes. I shot a blistering glare toward him.

“We apologize for the delay,” Chief Nikonus began, in a cordial tone. “These are unprecedented circumstances, and we’ve struggled to reach any sort of decision. Has your treatment here been acceptable, Noah of the planet Earth?”

The human dipped his head. “Yes. Thank you for your hospitality, gracious Chief.”

“Good. I’d never let anything like the Gojids did occur within my borders.” The Kolshian palmed an indigo tentacle across his nostrils. “The Federation, as I’m sure you know from the television, has sought all sorts of counsel on this matter. We reviewed your data sharing, consulted our own records, and brought in numerous experts to testify.”

“It looked like many of them had conflicting perspectives,” I said.

“Indeed. Historians, xenobiologists, psychologists, zoologists, sociologists, lawyers, economists; we had them all. Several individuals who were trapped within Venlil borders testified too, and we had our own internal discussions. At last, we’ve tallied every vote.”

The Federation could prove to the ambassador that some species did desire friendship. Any impartial observer would find humanity worthy of a chance, or at least derive reasonable doubt from their intricacies. My breath hitched in my throat, and I squeezed Noah’s hand for support. The predator’s palm was damp with sweat.

Nikonus cleared his throat. “Alright. The count of members who voted that humanity cannot be allowed to exist, or should be treated as a hostile party are…38.”

I tilted my head. Should we be disappointed that the figure was so high, or relieved that the proportion was only a little over 10%? That was a lot of species ganging up on a single planet; plenty of threats for the predators to fend off.

“Take that, stupid human!” Jerulim chirped. “You’re all going to be dead soon.”

“There will be no commentary from the audience until I have finished reading the results!” the Chief spat. “65 members voted for no contact or relations with humanity, which entails total isolation of Earth.”

I glanced toward the predator. There was more hurt in his eyes after that figure was read, than after hearing the ones who wished him dead. Knowing how much humans craved acceptance, they didn’t want to be shunned. The rest of the options had to be more promising, didn’t they?

Nikonus squinted at his notes. “74 species are undecided, with 52 specifying that they are awaiting news from the Gojid warzone.”

Those are a coin flip. Some people might not take kindly to the fact that predators attacked a Federation homeworld. Then again, it will be apparent that human morality is leagues above the Arxur’s.

“107 species vote in favor of a temporary truce, or working together where necessary to defeat the Arxur. Any violation of express conditions will lead to an immediate return to hostilities.”

My ears perked up with hope. After cooperating against the Arxur, some Federation members might become ingratiated to humanity. It could bridge the gap to normal relations. Though I doubted we could call upon their assistance, in regards to the species maintaining contention with Earth.

“Who the fuck voted for that?!” Jerulim squawked.

“My species did, for one,” the Kolshian leader replied. “Er, if that will be acceptable to the humans, of course.”

Noah nodded, shuffling as if expecting to leave. “Yes, it will. We want the Arxur gone from this galaxy, and an enemy of an enemy is a friend to us. Thank you for your time, and giving us a chance.”

“Wait, human. 11 members voted in favor of opening full diplomatic relations. This would involve forming trade, military, and border agreements…if you know anything of the sort. I suggest you ask Tarva for guidance, if those concepts confuse you.”

The ambassador raised a hand to his mouth, no doubt hiding his bared teeth. Perhaps he was amused by Nikonus’ assumption that predators would have no concept of negotiation. Primarily, I believed that Noah was moved by the fact that humanity would return with new friends. It was a tiny number, less than five percent, but it wasn’t zero. That counted for something.

Overall, the results could have gone much worse. If the neutral, isolationist species were counted as in our favor, the majority of the Federation voted against humanity’s extinction. Judging by the furious expressions sprinkled across the chamber, I wasn’t sure every species was going to accept that.

“So many of you would side with them over us?!” Jerulim screeched. “Defend or appease humanity like they were a civilized species? Anyone who stands with predators is dead to the Krakotl.”

The avian ambassador dive-bombed over the Chieftain’s cubicle, and slashed his talons at the elderly Kolshian. Nikonus shielded his face with a tentacle, and nearby soldiers rushed to his aid. Jerulim flapped his wings in a frenzy, pledging that anyone who stood with humanity would share their fate. Had the Krakotl forgotten whose planet he was on?

Other ambassadors launched into shouting matches, and a few made violent gestures toward the human. I didn’t want to know what the unfriendly ones were suggesting. Several individuals were trading blows, grappling right in front of the media cameras. A pair of Kolshian guards hurried us out of the chamber, before the predator could get swept up in the chaos.

Noah shared a glance with me, and I knew that tumultuous unrest stirred his own concerns. This vote could be the start of a major rift within the Federation.

***********************************************************

25. Memory transcription subject: Governor Tarva of the Venlil Republic

Date [standardized human time]: September 28, 2136

Armed Kolshians steered us into the docking area, where we landed upon our arrival. Our previous shuttle was outfitted with supplies, since the Chief granted us permission to return home on a pre-arranged route. The soldiers fell back several steps, and monitored the human for any threatening moves. One of them curled their lip at me, briefly.

Noah settled down on an empty crate, clutching a knapsack that contained his meager belongings. He met the soldiers’ gaze without blinking. Staring was a contest of dominance, whether that was the intention or not. The Kolshians gripped their rifles tighter, and slunk back toward the entryway.

“You’re gawked at all the time, Noah,” I whispered. “Not saying it’s right, but I don’t suggest that smoldering stare-down as a response. It’ll tickle their instincts in ways you don’t want.”

“I don’t care how they look at me, but they’re not going to look at you with disgust and hatred. If they want a problem, they can pick on someone their own size,” he growled, loud enough for the guards to hear.

Aggression and protectiveness were not the persona to exhibit, on the verge of our first diplomatic encounter. The Federation representatives would see it as a predator cowing his observers. I appreciated his loyalty, but humans were a little too defensive of their friends at times. Those soldiers were entitled to their opinions.

“Thank you, but it’s fine. A lot of people think I’m a disgrace to the Federation, and aren’t happy that I imprisoned their people.” I studied the guards’ expressions, noticing how their scowls deepened at my words. “Nikonus didn’t even discuss consequences for the Venlil.”

“So you agree with them?! You had noble reasons for what you did. They can’t find fault with that.”

“Well, I’ve single-handedly fractured the Federation beyond repair. I guess that makes me a traitor to most folks.”

“You’re a hero to all of humankind, Tarva. 12 species in the galaxy who would even try to befriend us. We met what might be the only one who would try, before there was a shred of proof to our claims! Don’t think we’ll forget what the Venlil have risked.”

I pressed a claw to my lips, and flicked my ears toward the doorway. The soldiers had snapped to attention, breaking their deadlock with the irate predator. That could only mean someone was approaching; the human needed to make a good first impression. Flattering us, at the expense of the rest of the galaxy, wasn’t going to win hearts and minds.

A violet-skinned Kolshian padded into the hangar bay, clearly resisting the urge to grab his sidearm. His steps faltered once he was within pouncing distance of Noah, like a magnetic force was repelling him from the human. The familiar officer crept to my side, using me as a living shield.

How has he still not grasped that Noah doesn’t have a violent bone in his body? Didn’t our journey here prove that much?

The Terran ambassador grinned. “Recel! I was worried you were rotting in a cell.”

The Kolshian rubbed his forehead. “I was, until the Commonwealth finalized our decision on humanity. Chief Nikonus agreed that I had a moral imperative to intervene, and pardoned me on all counts. I did receive a disciplinary mark for my methods, though.”

“What do you mean?” Noah asked.

“While Nikonus agrees with my rationale…we can’t have officers running around shooting their captains. I don’t think I had time to go through ‘proper channels’, but whatever.”

“I see. So you’re free. Why did you come here, of all places?”

“Nikonus offered me an appointment as military liaison to Earth, and I accepted.”

My eyes widened, as did the ambassador’s dilated ones. I thought that Recel hated being around predators! By his own admission, living around humans was a nightmare for him, and he couldn’t fathom prolonged exposure to them.

Noah stroked his chin in confusion. “You want to be around predator generals, and talk about war tactics? Don’t you hate the thought of having one of us within a hundred miles?”

“Forgive me if I’ve caused offense, Noah. Seeing your chemistry with Tarva, I think we could be great friends.” The Kolshian shuddered as he tried to meet the predator’s gaze. “Others seem to adapt quicker and easier than me, but I don’t want to give up. Truly.”

“Do you think you can work past your fear?” I asked gently. “Have you identified what triggers such a severe reaction?”

“I enlisted on a starship when I was 9. I don’t recall another way to feel toward predators. It may take an unreasonably long time for me to work past those behaviors, and it would take considerable coaxing from you all. I can’t imagine what this is like from Noah’s perspective; I’m not sure I’d have the patience. If you’d like a different liaison, I understand.”

Sympathy flashed in the Noah’s eyes. “Recel, we are willing to help you every step of the way. I just don’t know why you want to endure those…feelings. It seems unfair to you.”

“Humanity made me realize we are stronger than the sum of our fears. That there is something other than being afraid. I haven’t got there yet, but I’m grateful for that. Can you accept my apology?”

“There’s nothing to forgive. Your emotions are out of your control.” The edge dissipated from the human’s sonorous voice, replaced by a warm tone. “We’ll figure this out together. No matter how long it takes.”

“G-great. Now, there’s other diplomats coming…so I’m going to m-make some preparations.”

Recel skittered off to the farthest corner of the hangar bay, and began prepping a second shuttle. That was a smart idea, since it was unlikely the entire crowd would fit in a single vessel. Hell, I doubted some of them would want to ride in a tiny box with a human for days. The first officer was probably thrilled to charter his own ship, for that exact reason.

I watched the Kolshian shoot furtive glances toward us, and pondered why his species hadn’t agreed to full diplomatic relations. Chief Nikonus didn’t appear hostile to humanity, and displayed more fairness than I anticipated. The prospect of harm befalling Noah seemed to offend him, even. When my expectations were little more than a farcical hearing, a genuine debate was astounding.

I guess Nikonus didn’t propose a full partnership, because he doesn’t believe humans can reciprocate their cordiality in a meaningful way.

Nonetheless, I thought the Kolshian Commonwealth might come around as an ally. They had already seized the initiative by sending a military liaison. Even those guards were angered by my lack of accountability, rather than Noah’s presence. Maybe it was just too large of a leap for most governments to make at once.

Our Zurulian ambassador, Chauson, skittered into the room. Something seemed to have been bashed against his head, and green blood trailed down his snout. The furry scientist looked unsteady on his feet, but it was a good sign that he wasn’t shy of Noah in his wounded state. It violated every prey instinct, to wander up to a predator like this.

Noah squinted with concern. “Are you alright, Chauson? Please, let me take a look at that.”

“What happened?” I gasped.

The Zurulian sighed. “A bunch of people rushed to leave the chamber when the fighting broke out. Someone clubbed me over the noggin; I didn’t see who. Probably because I testified with a generous view on humanity. The pundits think I swayed some hostile votes to undecided.”

“All that, for sharing a synopsis of human morality?!” Noah said. “I’m sorry. I never wanted you to be assaulted.”

“It’s fine.” The scientist licked a foreleg absent-mindedly, smoothing out the brown fur. “I’ll look tougher now, when I force you to take me to your planet.”

“Ha! Even Tarva won’t go to Earth.”

“Why not? You haven’t invited her?”

“Our…it’s complicated, but Elias Meier, our leader, extended the invitation. Had an herbivorous banquet, live music, and a tour of New York City in the works. Tarva refused.”

I swished my tail with indignation. “It’s a different story after the experiments, Noah. You think I was going to wander into a city with ten million predator residents, less than a month after we met? Before anyone ever saw how you behaved in packs?”

Noah opened his mouth to respond, but snapped it shut as he saw Chief Nikonus leading a group of diplomats toward our ship. These must be the species that constituted the affirmative votes for open relations with Earth. None of them had been brave enough to make introductions yet; our Zurulian friend was the sole exception.

It didn’t surprise me to see the Sivkits or the Paltans in the mix. Their centrally-located territories were far enough away that they thought they could keep humanity at arms-length, and control or minimize the interactions. Even predators wouldn’t start that off the beaten path to gain a foothold. Us neighboring species were easier to invade first.

Then there were the Yotul, the latest “uplifts.” Adapting to the galactic arena was difficult for a species that just discovered steam power. I couldn’t imagine how the Venlil would’ve processed the Federation’s vast knowledge in our infancy. Of course, if the Yotul’s industrialism tipped us off to their presence, the Arxur might find them too. It was the lesser evil to flood them with information, and give them a fighting chance.

22 cycles after first contact, the marsupials tired of the derision from their counterparts. Most species dismissed them as primitive, with a poor scientific understanding, and little to offer as allies. The Federation military saw the Yotul as a liability, and wouldn’t take their suggestions seriously. Gaining the backing of predators was a calculated risk, to coerce some respect from their peers.

So far, no surprises. The Thafki seek protection, since there’s only about 12,000 members of their species left alive…well, not in captivity. The Nevoks and Fissans are trading juggernauts that don’t want to go the way of the Gojids.

I squinted in apparent confusion. Was that the Mazic president among their ranks? Perhaps this was not the assemblage of friendly species, after all. It wasn’t even a personal representative or aide; he was the only official dignitary I observed in the group.

Noah tensed, as he also spotted the beige-skinned mammal. I doubted my friend had forgotten who interrupted him at every turn. Cupo was rather outspoken against humanity, mocking the Terran ambassador for his eyes and criticizing simple arguments.

“Is the alien with the trunk just here to make trouble? The Mazic, you said?” the human whispered, echoing my thoughts. “Them and the Krakotl were the ones who couldn’t stand my presence.”

Cupo swished his trunk. “Your closing argument, about the hypothetical of friendship, was profound. We are, in fact, desperate enough that there is nothing to lose. Am I not welcome here?”

“I didn’t mean for you to overhear that comment, Mazic; my apologies. If you desire diplomacy, I would not turn you away.” Noah lowered his voice to its minimum, and pursed his lips in mistrust. “Damn Tarva. Those massive ears must be sharp.”

I snorted. “No, your ears are just bad.”

The human sighed. “That’s hardly the worst thing you’ve said about us.”

I studied the waiting crowd. While the injured Nikonus bore no intention of making the journey to Venlil space, he opted to send us off himself. There was more sharpness in his gaze than fear; he wasn’t shaking or whining, the way Recel did. Though I appreciated the officer’s efforts, perhaps there were better candidates to represent the Kolshians.

As for the newcomers, the Zurulian was prancing around the human in circles. Chauson couldn’t contain his excitement; he was the only ally eager to get up close and personal with the flesh-eater. Meanwhile, the Sivkit diplomat looked like she was about to pass out, standing across from a predator. Logical talk of borders and distance didn’t mean much when she was going to be trapped in its lair.

The Mazic president had the same suspicion in his eyes from the pivotal meeting. I don’t think he trusted Noah’s demeanor not to shift the second we took flight. There was a Dossur representative present, I realized, but the tiny rodent was hiding behind Cupo’s bulky form. That size differential could only make the lumbering predator more daunting.

That makes my count 10 species, plus the Kolshians. Maybe the last one is running late for some reason…their representative might’ve had a panic attack.

“You’re going to take the Yotul? I thought humans already invented the wheel,” the Nevok representative sneered.

A few chuckles came from the gathering, and even the Kolshian chief struggled to maintain a neutral expression. The Yotul glowered at his critic, then fired a nervous glance toward the human. I suppose the general assumption was that predators would shun any species with weaker technology. It was tough to imagine that friendship was their end rather than the means.

If anything, I think supposed “weakness” roused the Terrans’ protectiveness. Noah and Sara were most partial to us in our moments of vulnerability. Judging by how my friend’s lips curved down, he wasn’t pleased with the Nevok’s humiliation of their peer.

“We have plenty to offer, Tossa!” the marsupial snapped. “Maybe these predators will be less stupid than you, and see that!”

Tossa flicked her ears. “Like what? Name one thing that makes you valuable…especially compared to the rest of us.”

“For one thing, we’re the only ones here who weren’t around for that vote. You know, the one where you unanimously decided to wipe out all life on Earth. Even the Venlil have that baggage!”

Silence fell over the assemblage. Trepidation played at the representatives’ expressions, as the fiery Yotul reminded them of their prior decisions. Perhaps I could afford to issue a formal apology on that matter myself, though it hadn’t been my government that arrived at that conclusion. It must be tough for the predators to forget our role in their planned extinction.

“Humanity welcomes all parties, of all backgrounds!” The ambassador cleared his throat, irritation flashing in his eyes. “There’s no need for divisive rhetoric, or to ‘prove yourselves’ by putting others down. We’re a small group; we need to band together.”

“He’s right. There’s too much at stake here. Quit acting like children,” I growled.

“Gosh. On that unpleasant note… I must warn you that siding with us may put you at odds with your friends and neighbors. This is your last chance to turn back.” Noah blinked in surprise, as every party lingered. That was a risk they already considered leaving the acrimonious conference. “Alright then. Let’s board a shuttle, and get this show underway.”

The UN would be delighted to receive a proper diplomatic envoy, but I knew I had to temper their expectations. There would be missteps along the way, and few species would act as casual as us. It took a long time to be comfortable around predators. Familiarity was the final phase of the adjustment period, which certain prey sapients might never achieve.

At least now, humanity knew where they stood with the Federation.

****************************************************************

26. Memory transcription subject: Captain Sovlin, Federation Fleet Command

Date [standardized human time]: September 28, 2136

The humans’ actions in the past few days were a showcase of why I was right about them. It brought me relief to see such vindication.

The dishonorable tactics persisted into our home system, sneaking their transports into orbit through diversions. The good, old predatory ruse: these hunter bastards never changed. It baffled me why they didn’t commence an orbital raid on the planet, to soften up our populace. Then, I realized that the arrogant apes thought they could get people to come with them, willingly.

The Terrans’ supposed rescue attempts targeted children, who were the most susceptible to suggestion. I’m sure they predicted the stampede casualties a ruthless invasion would cause. Every clip I saw was the image of death, and humans baiting their livestock into submission with false kindness.

The higher-ups wouldn’t allow ships like mine to attack human positions, due to the fact that they overlapped with civilian dwellings. I didn’t want any innocents to die, but I knew it was a kindness to spare them from predatory possession. This was our lone chance to regain control in a timely manner. The only way to get any terrified innocents out alive.

We should’ve taken the shot, before the predators got more entrenched. Who knows what brainwashing techniques they’re employing on our people.

Prime Minister Piri lost it with me the third time I pressed her with a bombing scheme. She said the collateral damage was “unacceptable”, and was livid at the proposal. My ship was reassigned to a patrol route by our largest colony for an indefinite duration. Barring a secondary invasion, I was out of the game.

When a message came from the Union government, after several days of silence, I couldn’t play it quick enough.

“I hope we’re being recalled to the cradle. Piri’s had us in timeout for long enough,” I growled.

Zarn closed the soundproofed door to the briefing room behind us. “It must be stressful, knowing that they’re on your own world. I knew humans were a conquering species, but it’s another thing to see them in action.”

“Why hasn’t the fucking Federation come to our aid? The cowards must be scared to raise a claw in our defense,” I sneered. “They’re just watching! It’ll be them the humans come for next.”

“Perhaps they think the predatory expansion will end with us. A foolhardy notion. Their kind always want more,” the doctor said.

“I know, Zarn. Shit, let’s see what humans’ve done to cities and children this time. No sense delaying.”

I cast the holopad message to the projector. Holographic footage of the Arxur raiding our homeworld flickered to life, and my spines bristled. Explosions ravaged our planet, wiping out swaths of civilians in one fell swoop. Realization washed over me like a cold shower, as the pieces began to fit into place.

It was so obvious. Of course, the predators were working together; the humans were the brains of the operation. They took out our defenses, so that the red carpet was rolled out for the other sadistic monsters. It was a matter of divvying up the cattle, and finishing off what was left of our populace.

My eyes narrowed with fury. I was so tired of seeing my world exploited by psychotic beasts, who preyed upon the helpless. The amount of death I witnessed in my career was more than anyone should have to endure. Now, billions of souls were about to be whisked away by the two freaks of the galaxy. Unless Gojid forces cheated death, the rock I called home was no more.

Why was nature so uncaring and unfair? No matter how much I tried, there was never any way that I could make the predators’ suffering match ours. Our existence was agony and terror, a living hell.

“They can’t destroy our cradle!” I spat. “It’s sacred. All those people, gone, and for what?”

Zarn’s eyes widened with sympathy. “I am sorry, sir. If there is anything I can do, please let me know.”

“Thank you. But…” I blinked away tears, watching an Arxur bite into a child’s arm. “The humans got what they wanted. I’d like to watch the end of this. Alone.”

The acting first officer swished his tail, and ambled out of the room. None of the Takkan’s warnings about humans had done any good to prevent this calamity. We hadn’t been smart enough, or fast-acting enough. This was the inevitable conclusion, wasn't it?

Squinting at my holopad, Piri had attached a note to the video. I could almost hear the prime minister’s crisp voice, and see the sternness of her expression. It must’ve been her final action, to pass this media montage to any active communications satellites.

“By the time you view this, I will already be dead. My bunker is on the brink of collapse, pelted by bomb after bomb. This message is being relayed to any high-ranking officers out of system; I hope it finds you in good health. There’s no sense addressing the brave souls stationed here.

Our fleet failed to restrain the inbound Arxur ships, with catastrophic losses. We were pre-occupied with the humans, and taking them out any time they lingered near the cradle. The Terran ships burned into the fray, as soon as we abandoned our position against their vector. There was great confusion on who to fight. We figured they planned this scenario in cooperation with the Arxur.

Then, the monkeys began attacking the grays, and broadcasting warnings to the surface. We intercepted signal after signal. It could be staged chatter, but they seemed surprised. Perhaps it was just predatory treachery, betraying an ally for the thrill. It could have been a dispute over the livestock haul.

But this is the last footage I saw. I can’t conjure a reason that such sacrifice and tenderness would stem from aggression or cruelty. Those traits are polar opposites. What a marvelous ruse, if it is one.

Please, send word to the Federation, and relate the unspeakable losses of the Gojidi Union. Beg their help. Form your own opinions…and see what is done with the humans’ prisoners.”

A flash of movement snapped my eyes back to the video. A human soldier plowed into the feasting Arxur, tackling it away from the child. The primate was missing his gun, but swung a knife at the reptilian with a vicious look. His inky pupils were dilated, and his neck veins bulged against his skin. He stepped between the Gojid and the gray, shouting at the kid to run.

What the fuck? Why did he intervene? I thought. Maybe he had claimed the child as his own catch, like Piri suggested…

The Terran jabbed his blade into the Arxur’s elongated nose. The gray beast roared in agony, and crunched through the human’s stomach with swift jaws. More mammalians rushed over to the kid, peppering the reptile with bullets. They carried the Gojid so…tenderly, shielding the youngling with their own bodies.

“Rescue” was one thing, but it made no sense to die for their intended cattle. I gaped at the footage, staring in silence as the scene transitioned.

A Terran fireteam were surrounded by a school, and fighting to the last. Many of the furless predators were wounded, yet they propped themselves up and kept shooting. It was as though a drug was fueling them. These broken remnants managed to eviscerate an entire Arxur capture squad, by the looks of the time lapse.

As soon as there was a moment of peace, a Gojid child raced into the open and knelt by a human’s corpse. He jabbed a claw into the predator’s stomach, sobbing in hysterics. The kid showed such feeble emotions in front of those beasts, and their lips didn’t even curve into a snarl? Two primates stooped to the ground, and…attempted to console him?

A dangerous thought crept into my brain. What if the humans did actually care for the children? What would that say about them? They’re capable of…they’re…

Every part of me screamed for a refutation. I keeled over, clutching my temples in a desperate attempt to vanquish the thought. There was no logical way to override this narrative as propaganda; it was a transmission from my own government.

“No, no, no! They’re predators. Predators don’t have feelings,” I hissed. “They took your home. They took your family. They took…”

I collapsed into a prone position, bawling. The more I considered it, the more I realized that all of my arguments circled back to humans being predators. To my trauma, and to the planetary history Zarn claimed to know like the back of his paw. Every sneaking doubt that I blocked out flowed through my mind.

The Terrans rushed to tend to the civilians on our world, asking nothing in return. The way they prioritized the children was the same as any nurturing species. They only attacked military targets, both in our home’s invasion and when striking the border outposts.

The last remnants of a bombing run allowed a medical ship to pass, as soon as it was identified. Despite my beliefs, the bombers never so much as glanced at the colony. There was also the chatter we heard on the radio frequencies, expressing sympathy for what the Arxur had done. One pilot said he wanted to negotiate, but his counterpart’s retort was that we despised them too much to listen.

I wiped a tear off my cheek. “Nobody but the Venlil ever tried to speak to humanity. I hate…hated them with all my heart.”

Crumbling to my conscience’s assault, I allowed the memories of that week to play in my mind. The delight bubbling in my chest, as I drew screams from a helpless human, was as fresh as yesterday. At the time, it made me exuberant, but now, my sole wish was to undo the cruelty. Recel was right, when he said I was behaving just like the Arxur; he was always the better of us.

What kind of a man enjoyed another creature’s pain? That wasn’t the behavior of a hero, who was better than the predators he fought. An unbearable agony clasped at my chest; it was a sickening veil of disgust and self-hatred.

I allowed myself to view the event from Marcel’s eyes, and imbued some feeling into the predator’s mindset. The captain was a cruel individual, who shocked him for the slightest movements. The days were unending agony, with no sense of time or place. He felt his own body withering away, and clung to sanity recalling the kindness of his friend.

How do you persuade someone who hates you, who has already made up their mind about you? Nothing that was said mattered, or was even brought into consideration. The officers wouldn’t allow him to speak, and punished him for deceit after his repeated claims of friendship. For the crime of looking at the glass, his eyes were bashed in and clawed.

Marcel lost interest in everything, and became non-responsive. There was the briefest glimmer of hope, seeing his friend Slanek greet him with empathy and care. He thought maybe he could get through to the crew, now. The Venlil confirmed all of his claims about humanity, and it was obvious he loved the little guy...or at least didn’t want to eat him.

But the captain rushed to execute him, because he hated that someone listened to a predator. Of course, extorting every bit of suffering first, and making uncivilized threats. The human saw his life flash before his eyes; he felt afraid and alone. What was his crime but existing? Why was this happening to him?

“You did all of that, Sovlin. How could you?” I screamed. “Marcel was never noncompliant, or of a predatory disposition. He was just sickening to look at.”

The tears were flowing freely now. I couldn’t live with the knowledge that I inflicted such torment on a sentient creature, who came to my ship in peace. By extension, the ensuing war caused the Gojidi Union to lose our cradle to the Arxur. All I ever wanted was to save my people, and instead, my actions cost billions of lives.

I yanked my sidearm out of its holster, and shoved it into my mouth. Someone who had done what I had didn’t deserve to live. I felt like I was thinking clearer now than I ever had in my life. Just a few more seconds, knowing what a failure I was.

Five, four, three…

With a detached sigh, I tugged the gun out of my gullet. It would be wrong to leave a mess for my crew to clean up, and traumatize another person. Even if I hung myself, someone would stumble across my body. They would live with that image for the rest of their lives.

My stubby legs staggered out of the briefing room, and navigated to a maintenance airlock. The thought crossed my mind to write an apology as a suicide note, but that just didn’t cut it. Staring out at the stars, I knew that I could be free of this guilt. The only trace of this would be a data point on the logs; after my disappearance, someone could fill in the blanks with quiet conjecture.

“CAPTAIN! Please, don’t do it!” Doctor Zarn shouted from behind me, seeing my paw hover over the lever. “They can rebuild your homeworld. Ending your life is a permanent decision, and you will never contribute anything again. It will taint your legacy, and the Union will be weaker for your loss.”

“I don’t care about any of that! Why did you follow me?” I growled.

“Because there is still more to add to your story, sir.” The Takkan raised his paws in a pleading gesture, inching toward me. “Even if you don’t see it, each day is a gift. It’s a chance to do something for someone else.”

My eyes rolled back, as those last words sank in. The doctor didn’t realize why he was right, but he was. These final actions were selfish, the coward’s way out, because I was too afraid to turn myself over to the predators’ custody. What right did I have to deprive Marcel of his revenge?

Death was too kind for what I did. Suffering was what I deserved; none of the physical pain could be as awful as what I felt now. It was tough to breathe through the oppressive guilt, misery, and regret.

“I have to go,” I snapped.

The doctor stiffened. “Sir, you’re not in your right mind. We’re going to the medbay for observation…”

I shoved past Zarn, speed-walking back to the bridge. My gaze met Rumi’s, and I gave the comms technician a slight nod. The young Gojid looked floored to see his captain disheveled and sniffling. My paws moved him aside, and tapped the recording button on his console.

“This is Captain Sovlin speaking. I wish to state for the record that Officer Recel conducted himself in accordance with the highest Federation ethical standards.” My eyes swept across the chamber, studying my beloved crew for the last time. “It is my final wish that he succeeds me as captain of this vessel, and that any charges against him are cleared. I…I will be turning myself in for crimes against sentience. That is all.”

Astonished gasps echoed across the bridge. Zarn looked baffled which “crimes against sentience” I was referring to. It wasn’t my place to persuade him, or to fault him for feeding me slanted information. The responsibility for my decisions fell on my shoulders. I didn’t want the rest of my crew taken with me.

The only honorable thing to do was to turn myself over to the humans, and accept my nightmarish fate. I rushed through the corridors to the hangar bay, not wanting to give myself time to chicken out. Whatever the predators did to me was their prerogative, but my expectation was a slow and painful death.

It was quick work to board a shuttle, punching in the stellar coordinates for Earth. The predators’ breeding grounds, hadn’t I called it? A planet that filled my heart with hatred, that I longed to destroy with every fiber of my being.

Starlight twisted in the viewport, signifying that my final voyage was about to commence. This wasn’t the way I thought my military career would end. Very soon, I would know more about the humans than I ever wanted to.

My mind was adamant that such penance was merited.

****************************************************************

27. Memory transcription subject: Slanek, Venlil Space Corps

Date [standardized human time]: October 1, 2136

Our evacuation party was fortunate to skirt the orbital battle, and depart the system with a fair distance between us and the Arxur. The Terran transport unloaded its critically wounded passengers at a Venlil border outpost, while the rest of the posse trekked on to Earth. I wasn’t sure how the predators planned to deal with the terrified aliens upon arrival.

Marcel had been stabilized by onboard medics, and didn’t want to send Nulia to a refugee site run by predators without him. In fact, I got the feeling that he bore no intention of leaving her in a camp at all. Every Gojid on the vessel gawked at him yesterday, when he launched into a silly song about a twinkling star to put her to sleep.

Marcel was the reason I resisted the temptation to disembark, in the relative safety of a Venlil station. After every horror that befell him in space, I was uncertain if he’d ever return to the stars. Our separation could be permanent. The last thing I wanted was for our friendship to conclude with me showing fear and disgust toward his species.

If someone told me when I signed up for the humans’ first contact program that I would willingly go to their home world, I would’ve keeled over laughing. But I felt guilty over how my instincts ran amok on the Gojid cradle, and how quick I was to fault the predators for things they had no role in. Was my trust in humanity really that conditional? Were my prejudices still alive?

The mere sight of Marcel in the doorway had me in shambles, at our first meeting. Now, I don’t think about it when he snarls or picks me up. I don’t react to any humans’ eyes either, not even strangers or crowds. Maybe I’ve made more progress than I give myself credit for.

All sorts of bizarre ideas waltzed through my imagination, when I tried to envision Earth. I was the first Venlil to visit humanity’s home; not even the bravest scientists or diplomats would venture to the “blue marble.” It was a massive step, which might be a far cry from my preconceptions of society.

Landing on Terran soil would place me at the whims of their government, and expose me to the general populace. It would offer better insight into what the average predator was like, but was that a positive? I was woefully unprepared for what I had seen, mixing in with the UN military units.

As the spacecraft touched down, I tried to remind myself that it was too late to back out. This was not the time for second thoughts; my fright would only contribute to the other passengers’ panic.

“Gojid refugees, line up single file and prepare to exit the ship. Anyone who fails to follow the directions of UN soldiers will be hit with a tranquilizer dart, for your own safety,” a grating voice growled over the PA system. “Volunteers are handing out blankets, water, and dried fruit. If you require medication or special accommodations, approach the nearest human in a white coat or red cross insignia. You are safe here. Please do not panic.”

I snorted. Easier said than done.

The humans’ statements didn’t have the calming effect they desired; there wasn’t a single refugee that didn’t look petrified. One elderly Gojid collapsed with a thud, clutching her chest. The terror generated by this amount of predators could certainly cause a heart attack. Terran medics gestured for everyone to move back, and hurried to cart the cardiac victim out.

For the Gojids on board, it must appear they were being towed to a predators’ lair as cattle. Ferocious-looking soldiers with massive guns were corralling them into the open air. Who would believe a beast’s claim, that they would return anyone that wished to leave to a Gojid or Federation territory, as soon as they arranged terms with their government?

“Hi, Slanek,” Tyler said hesitantly.

The blond human took a timid approach, as if worried about frightening me. As traumatic as his table manners were, the big guy’s intentions were benevolent. He couldn’t help that his taste buds evolved with such a vile proclivity. Like Marcel explained, it was biology that was beyond their control.

I was aware that predators consumed meat by definition, and that didn’t negate everything I knew about their rich emotions. Humans weren’t like the Arxur, hunting living creatures; they cultivated cell samples in a lab. What was so amoral about that, other than the fact that it was appallingly gross?

It’s on the same level as consuming fecal matter. Don’t exactly want to share a table, or drink out of the same saucer. But it doesn’t have to shape my entire opinion of him. Out of sight, out of mind.

“Thanks for saving my life, Tyler. Sorry for freaking out back there.” I pinned my ears against my head, and saw his eyes soften at my scared expression. “It was a good idea on paper, for me to help humanity communicate with civilians. But I had no idea what I was signing up for. It was sensory overload, all the death, predation, and aggression.”

“It’s cool. I forget how much you guys hate predators sometimes. I know, Marcel doesn’t…but how could he?” the flesh-eater muttered.

Following Tyler’s sharp gaze, my own eyes landed on the redhead. I couldn’t help but notice the looks Marcel shot the Gojid adults throughout the ride. Clearly, his own species picked up on it too. This mission wasn’t the thrilling revenge jaunt he dreamed of.

My friend’s right limb was stuffed in a sling, while his dominant arm held the spiky child. He was clutching Nulia to his chest, like he expected someone to take her away. His hazel eyes were glazed over, as he watched the adult refugees stumble outside. A tear rolled down his cheek, which the young Gojid poked with a claw.

“Don’t cry,” she whimpered. “Why are you sad?”

The human pawed at his eyes. “I’m not. Just tired.”

The child tilted her head. “But you JUST slept for hours, Mawsle!”

“Marrrr-cel,” he enunciated, rolling the r sound with a reverberating growl. “You can say it, dear.”

“Mawah…sell.” Nulia hooked her claws into the corners of his lips, and tugged them upward. I gaped at her bravado, playing with a predator’s eating orifice. “There’s the happy snarl! Stay like that.”

Marcel flashed his teeth with genuine amusement. He glanced at me, noticing that Tyler and I were both watching with concern. The vegetarian struggled to his feet, limping toward us at the rear of the line. We shuffled to the exit as a pack, and my nerves surged through my veins. Warm sunlight struck my face, as I took my first look at humanity’s home.

The refugee camp was based in a decommissioned airport, judging by its appearance. Various structures had been converted to lodging, and tents dotted the runways. Humans were passing out supplies in what I thought was a former hangar bay. Doctors checked on any Gojids showing signs of life-threatening distress.

Camera crews were parked on the other side of a chain-link fence. A few predators shouted the word Venlil, trying to get my attention. For better or for worse, my image was as the first representative of my species here. I forced myself to straighten, and offered the most human-like wave I could muster.

UN guards manned the perimeter, allowing only cleared personnel through the gates either way. Alarm rocketed through my veins, as I spotted a ferocious, four-legged predator alongside them. The brown-and-black beast made the humans look cute and cuddly. I was sure its serrated fangs could puncture their flesh like pudding, but the primates seemed oblivious.

It sniffed the air with twitching nostrils, and eyed the armed Terrans with hungry pupils. I knew they had forward-facing vision, but how could they be that blind to their surroundings? How could the dangerous beast have drawn that close to them unnoticed?

My survival instincts leapt into overdrive. “RUN! PREDATOR! SAVE YOURSELVES! RUN, QUICK!”

Wait, Marcel can’t run. He’s going to get picked off first; him and Nulia are an easy target. The humans need to gun down the predator before it gets to us!

I bolted back toward the transport, overcome with a blinding terror. Tyler raced after me, closing the distance with long strides. He scooped me up despite my shrill, incoherent protests, and walked back to Marcel and the child.

“There’s a lot of predators here, Slanek,” Marcel sighed. “What, you’ve never seen a human before?”

I thrashed in Tyler’s grasp, trying to get him to put me down. My ability to formulate words other than “predator” or “run” was greatly diminished. A pitiful squeak escaped from my mouth, and I jabbed a claw at the monstrous quadruped. It was panting and slobbering over the humans’ boots! Were they the most clueless species in the galaxy?

Nulia screeched as she spotted the beast, and understanding flashed in Marcel’s eyes. He massaged the child’s neck, seeing her spines pop up. Why didn’t the human seem the least bit afraid? Why didn’t he call to the guards to shoot the predator?

“That is called a dog,” Marcel said slowly. “We domesticated them thousands of years ago…which means we trained them to be friendly to humans.”

Tyler grinned. “I have one at home! They helped us with hunting back in the old days, but now we keep them as p—”

“Companions,” my human interjected. “Dogs are loyal and obedient to us. They’re not sapient, but we have a close bond. Those UN guys have the ‘predator’ situation under control.”

I watched as a Terran soldier patted the dog on its head, and its tongue lolled out of its mouth. The human fished into his pocket, pulling out a cookie. He placed it into his hand, stretching his palm as flat as it could go, then offered it to the fanged predator. What was this madman doing? Trying to lose a limb?

The beast sniffed at the offering, and wagged its tail. Disbelief filled my chest as it snapped up the morsel, seizing the food without nicking the man’s hand. It barked at the Terrans, who were showering it with toddler-esque praise. Did that non-sapient predator understand their words?!

I can’t believe even humans tried to befriend that…thing. Conditioning dogs “to be friendly to humans” means they weren’t always friendly, I mused. And Tyler keeps one in his residence, like that is normal. How can he sleep with it around?

Tyler sensed that I calmed down enough, and placed me back on the ground. Was that how human hunting worked; co-opting other predators to do their dirty work? Marcel promised an answer once we were out of danger, but had yet to fulfill his vow. My outburst already drew a lot of unwanted attention though, so I decided not to say anything now.

One human took brisk strides toward us, flanked by a group of soldiers. His thinning salt-and-pepper mane, and crisp coat with a UN pin, looked familiar. Dear stars, it was the Secretary-General himself; I recognized him from our landing at the outpost. Was his entourage coming to arrest me for inciting panic?

“Slanek, isn’t it? Welcome to Earth!” Elias Meier leaned in, so close that I could feel his breath inside my ear. The air movement tickled the sensitive hairs, and I resisted the urge to paw at it. “Act natural and pose for the cameras for a moment. It’ll be bad PR for everyone if they think you’re afraid of us.”

The human official draped his arm across my neck, and I forced myself not to shy away. Why did the predators always have to grab for the vital areas? All he’d have to do would be to lock his elbow, to constrict my throat.

“I apologize for the canine presence.” The Secretary-General spoke the words in a booming tone, and I sensed that he was trying to tell the media that I hadn’t freaked out from the humans. “The dogs are necessary for security purposes.”

“Security from what?” I whispered.

Meier smiled, but did not answer. He slipped his arm from my shoulders, and gestured for us to follow him. I tailed behind the UN leader on shaky legs, terrified to traverse the checkpoint. Marcel and Tyler lurked at the rear, probably to seal off my escape route if I tried to run.

The dog was tethered by a thin rope, on closer inspection, but it seemed to be pulling the humans more than anything. Those awful eyes were watching me; its yellowed fangs were the size of my ear. I couldn’t stop hyperventilating. A predator like that could smell my fear, couldn’t it? What could the Terrans do if it lunged at me?

A tinted vehicle was waiting with a door ajar, and Meier flicked a hand toward the car. I didn’t need a second invitation to spring into the steel death trap. Marcel and Tyler squished in beside me, while the Secretary-General found a seat opposite us. The Gojid child was inconsolable after the dog sighting, sobbing into my human’s grimy uniform.

Meier raised his eyebrows. “Where are your parents, kid? They must be worried sick about you.”

“No they’re not!” Nulia wailed. “I called for my mommy and she never came back. She didn’t care if Mawsle or the bad monsters ate me.”

Marcel gave her head a gentle pat. “Your mother made a mistake, darling, because she was really scared. She loved you very much.”

Tyler nodded. “That’s right. You’re a good kid.”

Meier’s eyes lingered on Nulia for a moment. His thinly-veiled displeasure suggested he’d prefer if Gojid children weren’t roaming his planet. Evidently, he decided it wasn’t good PR to force Marcel to leave her behind either.

“Anyhow. Sorry about that mess, Slanek. I had no idea the Venlil were sending visitors, though don’t misunderstand me. We’re thrilled to have you here,” the Secretary-General said. “I’ll work out luxurious arrangements for all of you. If there’s anything you want, just ask.”

I cuddled up to my human. “T-thank you, sir.”

“Anything for our galactic neighbors. I’m pleased that you both returned alive, especially with how symbolic your connection has become here on Earth. Speaking of which…I have some positive news.”

Marcel leaned forward. “Positive news?”

“Sovlin has been arrested by UN forces. He’s being held in a clandestine facility for alien POWs, and is awaiting trial.”

My eyes widened, while my friend’s gaze narrowed. How had the Terrans tracked down the sadistic Gojid? Regardless of their methodology, I was relieved the captain wouldn’t get away with his wretched deeds. If the predators executed Sovlin, it would satisfy Marcel’s wish for his death. The anger boiling inside him was taking its toll on his kind soul.

“Take me there,” my human growled. “I want to see him.”

Secretary-General Meier exhaled, shaking his head in the negative. “That’s not a good idea.”

“So what? Pull some strings. I’m not going to do anything drastic,” Marcel said.

“And why would I risk the political fallout, if you did attack an alien prisoner in our custody? There is zero benefit to any party, and we aren’t prepared to host visitors there regardless. You’ll be able to see Sovlin in court.”

“C’mon! All I want is a short conversation, Meier.” The red-haired human’s expression was pleading, and his eyes searched the UN leader’s resolute face. “I’ll go along with whatever media strategy you want in return. You know I’m important to our propaganda efforts, at home and abroad.”

The UN leader stared out the window in thought. Was Marcel’s claim that he was that vital to the Terran narrative accurate? The Secretary-General crossed his arms with a resigned sigh, like he hated his next actions. A holopad found its way into his hands, and he began typing out a message.

“I’m sure I will regret this. I’ll let you peek at his cell from outside. You can enter only if Sovlin wants to see you,” Meier rumbled. “Understand?”

Marcel nodded. “Yes.”

My ears pinned back against my head. Those predatory eyes brewed with such a deep hatred, that it made me squirm. There was no telling whether the human could…or would restrain his aggression, once his tormentor was within grasping distance.

Whatever happened, my primary hope was that this confrontation would bring him peace, at last.

*****************************************************************************

28. Memory transcription subject: Captain Sovlin, Federation Fleet Command

Date [standardized human time]: October 2, 2136

A harsh buzzing drifted into my ears, rousing me from unconsciousness. I stirred on the thin cot, and grunted at the mattress’ inflexibility. Terror flooded my mind as I realized where I was. Gravity this authentic could only mean I was on Earth.

I had received a military greeting as soon as I neared the Sol system. When I informed them of my name and intent to surrender, the humans ordered me to power off my vessel’s engines. A breaching ship jostled my shuttle, and pumped a sleeping vapor through the ventilation shafts. The predators weren’t taking any chances of trickery or resistance.

The accommodations were reasonable, with every basic necessity available. By comparison, the Arxur kept their captives in squalor; a pen designed for five soldiers would be the size of my room’s bed. The reptiles had no qualms about piling us on top of each other and degrading our dignity.

Water and a fruit bowl were sitting on a small table. The drinking liquid wasn’t the unsanitary sludge I’d expect from predators. My cell was caged by a barred door, but it was spacious enough to walk around. The barrier slid open as the buzzing noise finished, and shoe thuds echoed through the vicinity.

I might never see a person that’s not a predator again, I realized with a chill. That’s very likely.

A pudgy Terran male in layered garments entered, studying me with a calculating gaze. My spines felt like they were about to worm their way out of my back. Those eyes were revolting; an unyielding assertion of dominance! Was he dissecting me in his mind, or searching for my vulnerable areas?

The predator tugged out a metal chair, and beckoned me to the table with a finger. I steeled myself for the physical pain I knew was about to occur.

“Well.” I slunk over to the opposing chair on shaking legs. “Go on then.”

The crown of fading white hair signified his age, I presumed. He fished a stack of papers out of a briefcase, and placed some glass adornment over his eyes. The beast looked like he engorged himself on flesh regularly; how else would he have fattened up like that?

Words were insufficient to describe the numbing dread, snowballing in the pit of my stomach. Figures that the humans waited until I woke up to start reciprocating the cruelty. I was on the other end of Marcel’s plight, caged with a monster with no way out.

“Hi Sovlin. My name is Anton Kozlov, and I’m your legal counsel,” the human said.

I cleared my throat. “L-legal counsel?”

“Yes. If you are unsatisfied with my services, we can find you another representative,” he replied.

“I…I don’t understand. Representative…represent me for what?”

“You’re going to be put on trial for crimes against humanity. Your case has been referred to the International Criminal Court by the UNSC. Er, that’s the United Nations Security Council.”

My ears could hardly process what they were hearing. Humanity had a proper court system, that relied on evidentiary claims to establish guilt, and stable institutions?! It all sounded so tame and normal.

And United Nations? Since when is the humans’ government unified? Every source says they do nothing but war with each other.

“First off, such d-d-decorum is…undeserved. T-there is no question that I did what I am accused of,” I stuttered. “Why would there even be a hearing?”

Anton’s lips curved down. “Everyone has the right to a trial. Presumed innocent until proven guilty. We are a civilized species, with laws and justice systems, you know.”

“I wish you weren’t.”

Savage retribution would at least alleviate my guilt over my own sadism. This calm professionalism was twisting the knife. The self-proclaimed lawyer had to know he was defending someone who would’ve killed his whole species, in a heartbeat. If I stumbled across him in my domain, I would’ve tormented him without refrain.

“Anyhow. Let’s go over the charges, and the facts of the matter. The ICC believes that your case has gravitas enough to fall under their jurisdiction.” The predator passed a packet in front of me, which detailed my crimes in their angular script. “While you tortured a single human, it was intended as an attack against our entire species. You’re the first alien to face trial by Terran law, so I’d say that’s important enough.”

“Okay.”

“You also bore the intent to genocide civilians, which granted, there is less direct evidence of. If you cannot understand these charges, let me know. We can try to translate them into your language, though I cannot vouch for the accuracy.”

“I have a translator. I understand just fine.” I lowered my head in shame, despising every word of sophistication he uttered. “How do I confess? I am guilty. I don’t wish to dispute the charges.”

I definitely don’t want to see evidence of what I did to Marcel. I wish I could forget about that beast. Oh stars, what if he comes to watch the proceedings?

“You can plead guilty, but I think there is a solid defense in the making. Of course, the evidence against you is airtight.” The human paused, and tapped a finger to his temple. Maybe they tried to use their hands like we used tail signals. “With your innate resentment of predators, I think there is substantial evidence to argue insanity. We can beseech the court for leniency on those grounds.”

“What? That’s not what I want. You’re predators. You can think of a brutal and agonizing way for a man to die.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I want my actions repaid. Request the worst imaginable sentence your government can give…please. Something torturous!”

Anton squinted at me. He poured a glass of water, and pushed it toward me with a sigh. The primate must be mocking me by concocting such a defense; there was no psychological excuse for my untenable hatred. I failed at every opportunity to revert my course, and never used a scrap of logic.

The last thing I wanted was for Terran judges to empathize with my perspective. The predators needed to prove themselves to be a little unhinged or vindictive. Maybe they could have some feelings, but they weren’t just ordinary, docile people.

“Prisoners are not tortured on this planet,” the human explained. “It’s explicitly forbidden by our laws. While you are in UN custody, your needs will be cared for. You will be imprisoned if convicted, likely for a period of 10 to 20 years.”

My eyes widened. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Imprisoned where? Like where I am now?”

“Yes. This facility was specifically set aside, in case we captured any Federation prisoners of war.”

“Make an exception. WHAT KIND OF PREDATORS ARE YOU?!”

The lawyer eyed my flailing claws nervously. “You need to calm down. I’ll be back when you’re ready to discuss your case.”

The predators had a much better grasp on their aggression than I thought. There wasn’t a scratch on my physical form, nor had there been the deployment of intimidation tactics. Even screaming at Anton couldn’t evoke the violent reaction I desired. If anything, my antagonization seemed to frighten the old man.

“If you’re just going to dream up excuses, don’t come back at all,” I growled. “I don’t need legal counsel.”

The white-haired human collected his belongings, shaking his head in what I thought was frustration. That refined conversation wasn’t at all on par with my expectations. They were supposed to enact all sorts of predatory compulsions on me; not confine me under humane conditions, to ponder what I had done.

This is the worst outcome. They have every chance to return the favor, yet they choose to be better.

“Listen. If you want to plead guilty, that’s your right.” Anton paused at the door, as he was buzzed out by the guards. “But let me test the waters first. See what sort of deal the UN are willing to offer.”

“Why would they offer anything?!”

“You’re still one of the Federation’s most brilliant tacticians. That counts for something.”

“I…fine. I really don’t care anymore.”

“Excellent. Oh, and Sovlin. There’s…oh shit…someone else here to see you. You may want to refuse him.”

“Would Cap here dare to turn me away?” A steaming voice hissed, so throaty that it sounded like a snarl. “I have a right to face him.”

The lawyer hurried out, and a muscular silhouette appeared by the door frame in his place. The new predator was baring his teeth, with strained breathing that verged on panting. This must be the interrogator I was waiting for!

I curled my claws for the humans to send him in, assuming they were monitoring the cell somehow. They must not have understood.

“Do you wish to speak to the visitor?” a gruff voice crackled through a speaker. “There is no established visiting area at the moment. We can arrange a separate meeting under more defined circumstances, if you wish.”

I blinked slowly. “No need for pomp and circumstance. Send him in now.”

The bars creaked out of the way. The human stalked in, with a guard tailing behind; my visitor limped like he was wounded. One arm was placed in a sling, and a bandage was tied around his leg. His short hair bore an orange tinge, but it was no more than stubble on his scalp. The predator’s face was beet-red, marred by three long scars that carried a lighter shade.

The pattern of those marks clicked with the nagging images in my head. I gasped in horror, and struggled to keep myself still. My eyes turned toward the floor, as Marcel shoved his crooked nose inches from my face. Every part of me wanted to hide under the bed; it would be much easier to pretend he wasn’t here.

At least I didn’t kill him. His skeleton is much healthier…and he’s lopped off what little hair humans have. Stars, he is hideous.

“LOOK AT ME!” the Terran roared.

I took a shaky breath, and gazed into his hazel eyes. The human’s expression was contorted, with a coat of water swelling around his pupils. The depth of emotion, when I truly looked, was staggering; not the soulless abyss I saw them as before. It was a looking glass to his conflicted mind, which was beleaguered by resentment and recollection.

“Every time I close my eyes, I’m back there. I can’t be touched on the neck, without thinking of your fucking collar.” Marcel’s raspy voice sounded choked, and I heard snot bubbling in his nose. He furiously wiped a tear away. “I can’t look in the mirror, without seeing your fucking scars! I’m reminded of you by everything.”

My skin tingled from the feel of his warm breath on my snout. Guilt plagued me, twisting my insides into knots. How could the human return to his society and act civilized, after being treated like an animal?

Wetness trickled down my own cheek, and my vision grew fuzzy. I could see truth in his words, that the anguish wreaked havoc on his mind daily. Maybe beating the shit out of me, or killing me, would give him some closure.

“I don’t want to hurt you again. B-but when you start attacking me, I won’t be in control anymore. I suggest you start with the claws, or t-tie up my paws,” I croaked.

The predator slammed a fist on the table, baring his teeth. “All I want is to know why. What have I ever done to you? Why did you do it?”

“Because when I look at you, I see the Arxur. I’m s-sorry.”

“You’re sorry?! Fuck you!” he spat. “You’re a piece of shit, you know. A lying sack of shit!”

“I…h-how am I lying?”

“Tell me the real reason. You said they took everything from you, when you were about to kill me. What did you mean?”

“You don’t care. I don’t talk about that, ever.”

“Don’t you owe me that much?!”

I drummed my claws on the chair. If Marcel could derive meaning from that wretched tale, it was something I had to rehash one more time. Sorrow filled my throat, just reminiscing about it.

Arxur shuttles snuck past our defenses, and the reptilians went on the hunt. One of the first places they landed was my neighborhood. The Gojid armada’s efforts failed to stave them off; therefore, it was my fault that those monsters tormented my family. Unspeakable things were done to the only two people I loved.

I spectated the whole event, from a holopad that was dropped on the floor in panic. The awful screams were something I tried, and failed, to blot out of my mind. The reason I led that famed charge against the Arxur fleet, was the paralyzing grief I felt that day. It was meant as suicide; dying in a righteous blaze of glory. Instead, I was saddled with a heroic mantle, and consigned to live for nothing more than vengeance.

“They killed my family. While I was on a call to wish my daughter good night…happy? It’s no excuse.”

Marcel stepped away at last, pacing by the door. I was surprised he didn’t throw that back in my face, and try to reopen the wound. Even if humans could feel empathy, there was no reason to extend that to me. Slanek’s words about how “kind and gentle” this predator was rang in my ears; the Venlil staked his life on that belief.

This isn’t someone who is cruel and sadistic. This is a good person, who is dying on the inside… because of you.

“Indeed. There’s no excuse for what you did,” the predator decided. “But I saw what the Arxur do. I saw a lot of things I can’t begin to describe.”

“Saw how? It’s not the same on television.”

“I didn’t get shot twice sitting on the couch, Sovlin. I deployed on your ‘cradle’, don’t you call it? You don’t even give your fucking homeworld a proper name.”

“How is that any worse than naming your planet ‘Dirt’?”

“Well…fine, on your cradle. I saw Arxur soldiers munching on a Gojid’s organs in the middle of a fucking battle. Them plucking people off the streets to God knows what fate; us racing to evacuate anyone. Cities wiped off the map, and explosions all around us.”

Marcel’s voice quavered with horror, and his eyes stared blankly at the wall. There was a grim sincerity in his testimonial. It would be easy to interpret his anecdote as gloating, but he seemed saddened by the destruction of my homeworld. The humans hadn’t wished such a senseless fate upon us; it was us who yearned for a genocide against their race.

I chewed at my claws with despondency, mourning the infinite loss of the cradle. The question nagged at my mind, whether any humans partook in the flesh consumption, but I bit back that morbid curiosity. I should just let the predator continue uninterrupted.

“There were children crushed to death by their own parents, left broken in the streets,” he recalled. “A massacre as far as the eye can see. The stench of death, flies buzzing in the air…you all did that to yourselves. Humans would never do that to our kids.”

A predator speaking as though a stampede was a conscious choice, and claiming the moral high ground; this was all so bizarre. The notion of humans caring for their young, or having any kind of family unit was jarring. To think of them forming attachments felt alien to my brain.

“Somehow, you’re the worst of it all, Sovlin. I will never escape what you did.”

I swallowed. “So what do we do now? Are you going to kill me?”

“Oh, I dreamed about killing you. Tearing you from limb to limb.” Marcel pinched the bridge of his crooked nose. “But that’s not who I am. Not to Nulia, not to Slanek, and not to myself. You don’t get to take that away from me.”

“I d-don’t understand. Take what away?”

The predator’s lips curved up into a snarl, revealing his pointed canines. “How I treat a monster…it says a lot more about me than you. I’m proud to be human, and I wake up every morning without feeling like a total piece of shit. Can you say the same?”

Marcel stalked away with a limping gait, and the door clanged open at his behest. The human receded down the corridor, as did the UN guard shadowing him. The heavy clops of their feet faded out of earshot. My spines began to settle, left without the company of any predators.

That final question resonated through my head; the scarred flesh-eater knew that answer as well as I did. It was my treatment of a perceived abomination that shaped me into one myself. And no…I don’t think I’d ever feel pride or contentment again. The spark that made me Sovlin, the brazen officer, was gone for good.

When the Terran lawyer returned, I decided to go along with his merciful plots. Humanity treated monsters with dignity for their own sake, and who was I to ruin it for them?

**********************************************************************

29. Memory transcription subject: Captain Sovlin, Federation Fleet Command

Date [standardized human time]: October 3, 2136

Our van cruised along the multi-lane highway, granting me a perfect view of the passing scenery. The road was packed with cars, with light signals governing the traffic flow. The humans were more enterprising and entertainment-driven than I anticipated. Intermittent signs advertised shops, restaurants and hangouts. Dwellings were mostly tucked away on side streets, away from the hustle-and-bustle of traffic.

Earth is not as harrowing as I expected. There’s not a single sign of violence or corpses lying around. It’s just people, going about their lives.

We were en route to a refugee camp, per the Terran government’s request. Despite their best efforts, humans lacked knowledge of our basic biology and necessities. They also were having difficulty getting any Gojids to speak to them…for obvious reasons.

The predators asked whether I would be willing to provide guidance, and assist communication with the more frightened individuals. My attorney noted that there was nothing offered in return, but I was happy to help my people. The few thousand that were left, anyways.

Anton leaned in. “Remember, this is a test to see if you’ll cooperate. You need all the goodwill you can get here. Don’t do anything stupid.”

The lawyer looked nervous sitting next to me, even with the cuffs around my forepaws. An ankle monitor was also strapped to one leg, suppressing my circulation. The predators didn’t trust me not to run off, the second I tasted fresh air. If I intended to flee, why would I have flown a ship into the heart of their territory?

There were two UN officers at the front of the vehicle, wearing matching artificial pelts. The primates’ skin must be sensitive to light, with how they wore extensive garments at all times. Their eyes barely left me; the constant tracking meant my spines hadn’t settled for the hours-long ride. The build-up of fear chemicals was dizzying.

I coughed. “Uh, guard predators. C-can…I say something, if I, um…think that my people are b-being mistreated?”

One of the officers, named Samantha, gave a curt nod. “Yes. You may.”

“If you have any ideas for cultural elements that are missing, that’s acceptable as well,” the other soldier, Carlos, growled. “We know nothing of your religions or customs.”

That old anxious habit of chewing at my claws cropped up again. The most popular deity worshipped in our systems was the Great Protector, a nature spirit that warded off predators. I never believed in such nonsense myself; judging by how the Arxur terrorized us, there was no one safeguarding our cradle.

Probably shouldn’t tell literal predators that our higher power is supposed to keep their kind away. I doubt they’d let Gojids exercise patronage to her, once they discover that.

My faint curiosity wondered what sorts of beliefs the Terrans were governed by. Carlos’ words implied that they did have religions, which must shape their society’s morality. Perhaps their gods offered wisdom such as only killing when necessary, and giving their quarry swift deaths? That could explain their prey-like conventions on prisoners and warfare.

Our van paused by a secured gate, where more humans waved it into a large paved area. The vehicle parked itself by a hangar bay, and the operators switched off the ignition. The UN soldiers stalked around to open the rear hatch.

A dark corner of my mind fed me awful ideas about what condition the Gojid refugees were in. What if the predators lost patience with the more fearful individuals while we were in transit? What if being around this many prey animals at once stirred the humans’ appetite, even if they didn’t want it to? This had to be a massive temptation.

“What are you waiting for, Sovlin?” Samantha waved a hand impatiently. “Get a move on it.”

Anton snaked his fingers around my wrist, steadying me as I stumbled out of the van. The predator’s skin was slick and oily; the touch sent a shudder through my veins. I tried to use my surroundings to ground myself, and forget about my proximity to the Terran.

There were no hints of any pens, suspicious contraptions, or butchering tools. This appeared like the helpful facility the predators proclaimed it to be. Thousands of Gojids were milling about, while humans lingered by designated assistance tents. The largest line was at a station labelled for locating loved ones.

“You can’t have gotten many people off planet,” I muttered. “Why give them hope?”

Carlos crossed his arms. “Such a cynic. If we reunite a handful of friends or family, then it’s worth it.”

The female guard shook her head in disapproval as well. She fished a yellow object out of her pocket, and tugged down the outer skin. The soft flesh below had to be from a plant, judging by the lack of eyes, limbs, or blood. Was she offering me food? I wasn’t hungry.

To my bewilderment, Samantha took a bite out of the clasped vegetation. The seeds in the half-eaten object confirmed that it was a fruit, rather than any animal organ. This predator was chowing down on prey snacks, right before my eyes! I thought it might be curiosity what our food tasted like, but she seemed too bored for it to be interest.

Marcel could have eaten fruit? I thought the only way to feed him was to sacrifice a crew member, I mused, with a guilty pang. Stars, are these humans even predators at all?

Samantha’s forward-facing eyes locked on me. “Why are you looking at me like that?!”

“You…you eat plants?” I squeaked.

Anton nodded. “We’re omnivores, Sovlin. Humans can eat meat, but that’s not the main part of our diet.”

“Umnuver?” I struggled to pronounce the tonal word, since no equivalent existed in my language. “Okay. Uh, sorry for gawking. M-maybe just show me something you want my help with?”

Carlos steered me toward a large dormitory, palming his chin in thought. This predator had strange green markings across his arm. Was that some sort of customary brand, for males in their service? Maybe it was a way of denoting his kill count, or ancestral heritage? The olive-skinned human didn’t notice me studying him, which was a relief.

The male guard checked that no Gojids were watching, before pointing to the far end of the bunks. “See that group huddling over there? How they seem to be protecting that chap with the beige claws?”

“What about it?” I answered.

“That guy they’re shielding has been unresponsive to any of our orders,” Samantha chimed in. “Completely ignoring us.”

Carlos nodded. “Which isn’t the issue. Lots of Gojids haven’t been very cooperative, because they’re afraid or otherwise. But this particular fellow, it’s like everyone tries to get him away as quickly as possible.”

“So what? You, um, want me to get this one to listen to you? I can’t guarantee I can do that.”

The predator shook his head. “Just find out why they’re hiding him. If he’s a celebrity, a religious leader, a politician…I don’t know. If he’s important to you all, we can give him special treatment.”

The Gojid in question wasn’t anyone that I recognized. If I didn’t know him, it was unlikely he was famous enough that large percentages of our people would pick him out. A suspicion flickered in my mind, that this one had some sort of disability.

Everyone knew that predators practiced the “survival of the fittest” maxim of nature. The humans had ample emotions, but would they knowingly expend resources on a deficient individual? Someone with a permanent handicap wouldn’t be helpful for rebuilding our species, to the predatory mindset. Surely, they’d want that trait wiped out of the gene pool.

Humans probably would think they’re doing us a favor, with how limited our numbers are. They’d never understand why we nurse an individual who cannot care for themselves, or can never live a normal life.

“Er, I’ll check in,” I growled. “Don’t come with me. Nobody will talk to you.”

Samantha tossed the finished fruit peel into a waste bin. “Fine. Don’t try to run. That band on your ankle will tell us where you are.”

My conscience was torn, as I wandered over to the group. While I owed the predators an immense debt, one I could never atone for, sacrificing another person’s life felt immoral. Perhaps I should have just refused to help; if I didn’t know anything, it couldn’t be used against the poor guy.

A Gojid female watched my approach, and pointed a claw at me. “Stop. What do you want?”

I halted in my tracks. “Is the young man there alright? Have the predators done something to him?”

“Nothing like that,” she muttered. “Why should we trust you? You just came with a bunch of their soldiers. We saw you go through the checkpoint.”

“I’m a high-ranking Gojid officer that was taken prisoner during the war.” The words were automatic, as if some other persona jumped behind the wheel. “The second they released me, I’m doing what I can to help…under the circumstances. You might know me; my name is Captain Sovlin.”

Her eyes widened. “The Sovlin? It’s an honor, sir. Um, I’m Berna, and the silent one’s Talpin.”

“Nice to meet you. May I ask again what the issue is?”

“Tal is deaf. He can’t hear any of the predators’ commands, and they’re starting to get belligerent. We’re trying to guide him, but it’s a matter of time before they figure it out.”

“How long do you think you can keep them in the dark? The humans aren’t stupid.”

“A few days, at most. But every hour we keep my brother alive is worth it to me.”

I studied the deaf Gojid, noticing the confusion plastered across his features. A burning feeling crawled into my throat. The length of Talpin’s lower spines suggested that he had just reached adulthood. This teenager had so much of his life ahead of him, and his family circle would mourn his loss immensely.

The UN soldiers were waiting, expecting a full report. Yes, it was a single life to earn the humans’ favor; one that would be terminated soon anyways. But there were so many fatalities on my conscience. As it were, that count was more than I could live with.

I couldn’t let another person die because of me. Not a single one. The Terrans would resent my disobedience, but any threats paled in comparison to a novel source of guilt.

“I understand. I suggest that you lay low as possible,” I said with a soft tone. “Take care of yourselves.”

Talpin waved at me, blissfully ignorant to the dilemma in my mind. I shuffled back toward the predators, while a choking sickness clamped down on my stomach. Their hideous eyes searched mine for any clues. Carlos barked a question, but the translated meaning was lost beneath my swirling thoughts.

“Sovlin? Talk to me, buddy.” Anton patted my shoulder, and I flinched at the contact. “You look shaken up. What’s the matter?”

Samantha narrowed her eyes. “What did they tell you? If there’s a threat, we can try to de-escalate the situation. That is part of our training, you know.”

“I’m sorry. N-no one is in danger. But I can’t tell you,” I whimpered.

“What do you mean, ‘You can’t tell us?!’” the female predator hissed.

“Your reaction could be drastic. I can’t get someone else killed…no matter how b-bad I feel about Marcel. Just throw me back in my cell, okay? Please.”

She blinked. “Nobody is getting killed. Have humans ever displayed violence toward you? Either you trust us to conduct ourselves with kindness and compassion, or you haven’t reformed at all. Pick one.”

“I…I don’t know. Shit, I don’t know!”

“Sovlin, we are trying to help these people. You have my word that no harm will befall any of them. Not unless there is zero alternative,” Carlos growled.

I squeezed my eyes shut. Feeling empathy was a far cry from the altruistic disregard of genealogy. Humans wouldn’t be a strong, warrior species without making a few logical sacrifices. It might stupefy them, that we burdened ourselves with so-called debility. Would honor be enough to compel the predator guards to spare Talpin?

The lawyer jostled my arm again. “You’re panicking. I can see that. Whatever predator nonsense you all are convinced of, it’s dead wrong. We are nothing like the Arxur.”

“Yes, but…he’s deaf!” I blurted.

The humans recoiled. All of their expressions seemed stunned, from how their eyebrows shot up toward their hairline. I don’t think that possibility even crossed their mind. Why would it, when they would never engage in such an impractical undertaking themselves?

Shit, what have I done? You couldn’t keep your fat mouth shut, and let a teenager live his final days in peace? I berated myself. You’re a weak-minded, selfish asshole, Sovlin. You should’ve spaced yourself back on your ship.

Samantha scratched her head. “Was that so hard? I think I can take care of this.”

The UN guards stalked toward the group, and I tailed behind them in mute horror. My brain was screaming at them to stop, but I couldn’t muster the words. The self-hatred reached a new high; my will to live felt depleted. Were the predators going to take Talpin away from his family? Execute him in front of the watching crowd?

The female human approached, without drawing her weapon, and gestured toward the deaf youth. Talpin screeched, as he saw the armed predators’ attention on him. With bristling spines, he tried to crawl under his bunk. The Gojid cluster gaped at me with looks of absolute betrayal; tears swelled in my eyes.

“How could you, Sovlin?!” Berna jumped between the Terrans and her brother, flexing her claws in defiance. “I thought you were a hero! A man who would die for our planet.”

I collapsed to my knees, hugging my chest. “I’m so sorry. I…I trusted them.”

“P-please, don’t kill him, predators. I’ll give you whatever you want!” the sister protested.

Samantha dropped to one leg. “We’re not going to hurt anyone. Can he understand me now?”

She made a series of animated gestures, concurrent with her speech. Talpin watched her with a blank stare, trembling. Her clawless fingers curled in strange motions, but they didn’t seem random. My misery gave way to confusion, as I tried to understand what she was doing. Was this some non-verbal form of communication?

That’s not hunger or disgust in her eyes, I don’t think.

“Sign language,” Carlos explained, spotting my bafflement. “It’s how deaf people communicate on our planet. Do your translators work on it?”

“N-no. Only audible language; that’s why tail s-signals don’t translate,” I stammered.

The female predator lowered her hands. “Dammit. Please tell him we’re going to find a way to talk to him, Gojids. Ask him for a little patience.”

Berna gaped at the UN soldiers. “Okay? Thank you.”

My mind was spinning. The humans created an entire gesture language for those who lacked hearing? Did that mean that they catered to other ailments too; that individuals like Talpin could live normal lives? This suggested the limits of their nurturing went much farther than I imagined.

The Arxur would have considered any hindered offspring as prey, lumping it in the same category as their food. Then again, they abandoned their children days after birth, whereas Marcel spoke as if humans kept contact with their progeny. With their empathetic behavior toward our younglings, I couldn’t imagine they left their kids to fend for themselves.

“I don’t understand. You speak a language for deaf people, but you can hear?” I murmured.

Samantha raised her shoulders briefly. “My brother is deaf. Was from birth.”

Berna’s eyes widened. “Your parents reared a deficient offspring? Reworked their whole lives for it…kept it?”

“What the fuck? Of course they ‘kept’ him!” she spat.

The Gojid flinched. “S-sorry. Shit, I meant no offense, predator. I thought you’d care about individual contributions.”

“There are more ways to enhance society than by being the pinnacle of physical perfection.” Anton met my gaze, though replying to Berna. It was like he knew my thoughts followed a similar track. “One of our greatest astrophysicists was a quadriplegic for decades; fully dependent on the care of others, unable to talk without a speech synthesizer. Brilliant man.”

I twisted my claws, pondering their words. Though I regretted my behavior toward Marcel, my understanding of humans was limited to the scope of my prior knowledge. Zarn had spoken in ghastly detail about their cruelty and malice. Our briefing videos encapsulated those heinous acts, and confirmed the unthinkable level of viciousness abiding within them.

Even in Terran domain, all I see is compassion. Where is the humanity that the Federation saw? Wouldn’t such a brutish nature shine through, somewhere?

Seeing their redeeming qualities, such as how they were capable of empathy, was a start. However, these primates were nothing at all like any scientist predicted. Predators’ entire purpose in an ecosystem was to weed out the weak. They were natural selection itself!

“You’re quite right, humans. You are nothing like the Arxur,” I admitted.

“We’re not. We want you to help us beat them, Sovlin, but the UN needed to see that you trust us first.” A hard glint flashed in Carlos’ brown eyes. “I’m satisfied that your remorse is genuine. What do you say we spend a few hours here, then we talk shop?”

“That translated as, um, discussing work?”

“Touché. We’re drumming up plans to take the fight to the Arxur, and to bring whatever is left of your cradle back into our hands. Would you be willing to look them over? Perhaps serve alongside us?”

I realized that, in spite of my visceral reaction to their features, I almost liked these humans. They had a certain charisma, when they articulated their lofty intentions. Our cradle would be little more than rubble now, but its symbolism counted for something.

A few thousand Gojids might’ve survived in bunkers, and these strange predators were their last hope. The UN was giving me a chance to offset a fraction of the damage I'd caused. That wasn't the sort of offer I could pass up.

“There’s nothing I’d like more. Count me in.”

******************************************************************

30. Memory transcription subject: Slanek, Venlil Space Corps

Date [standardized human time]: October 3, 2136

Accompanying Marcel to visit his tormentor was my overarching desire, but persuading the predator proved an impossible task. It baffled me why he believed this confrontation was something he needed to tackle alone. The worry I felt for my human was tremendous; I couldn’t imagine how traumatic it was to encounter Sovlin, with the roles reversed.

Beyond that, it was terrifying to be stranded on Earth, without him to protect me. Whenever something frightened me, there was the comforting assurance that the vegetarian would fix it. I was beginning to understand that Marcel shielded me from the predatory side of humanity, to the best of his ability. Who was there to filter the stimuli around me now?

You need to get used to humans on your own, Slanek. Toughen up, I chided myself. That orphan toddler is twice as brave as you!

Nulia seemed anxious without her scarred predator; the poor thing must be fearful of being abandoned again. Tyler landed babysitting duty for the Gojid child, while her guardian was away. The meat-eater had finally retired to his room, trying to get both of them some shut-eye.

As babyish as it would have been, I wished I tagged along. Every shadow that danced on the wall seemed like a dog sneaking up on me. There was no chance of getting a wink of sleep, knowing I was trapped in a land of predators alone. How could any sane species leave their varmint alive?

With a frustrated sigh, I jabbed a claw on the remote. It was a bad idea to watch their television without supervision, but the boredom was stirring up the dark side of my imagination regardless. The screen opposite the bed flickered to life, set to a news channel by default. A stern-looking female had her intense, predatory eyes fixed on the camera.

“…ever trust the Federation?” she asked. “None of their information about predators has been correct. The continued survival of the human race is due to their astonishing incompetence; their fundamental lack of curiosity. You, your children, and your loved ones are vermin to be killed to them. These aliens take offense to your existence.”

“Not the Venlil!” I yipped, knowing that she couldn’t hear me.

“The UN ambassador and the Venlil governor never returned, from a summit where they tried to negotiate with these genocidal maniacs. At this point, we have to presume that Noah Williams was murdered. Maybe it’s time to give the Feds a dose of the predators they’re asking for. Is this why the Arxur turned on them? How were they really treated at first contact?”

That statement made my blood boil. How could any human argue with the mountain of footage, depicting Arxur sadism? It was an undisputed fact that the Federation uplifted those predators, gifting the means to blaze a trail of destruction. Hadn’t the Terran soldiers returned with stories of the grays rounding up cattle, and snacking on living Gojids mid-battle?

Surely, no humans bought this outrageous line of thinking. This had to be a sensationalist take to garner publicity for her broadcast. That, or it was satire. I failed to see the humor, but then again, I always took a literal interpretation of things. Terran comedy could be pretty dark and tasteless, from the jokes I heard on my deployment.

“Nothing excuses cannibalism and xenocide, to those who will inevitably take my words out of context. I just don’t see a reason to accept a bigot’s narrative, without any critical thinking. Recent intelligence suggests ship movement in the Krakotl…”

The hotel door clicked open without warning, which startled me upright. What if it was UN security guards, coming to secure my room with a dog? That creature was going to be my nightmare fuel for months; I could vividly picture it ripping off a Venlil limb, with a toss of its ugly head.

My fear morphed to relief as I saw it was Marcel, who bore an exhausted look on his face. The predator’s emotions must be depleted, after such a taxing journey. He flopped back-first on the bed, allowing the residual tension to ebb from his shoulders. I assaulted him with a hug, and ignored the groan as I knocked the wind out of him.

“Easy, buddy,” the human grunted. “It’s only been a day!”

I emitted a happy mewl, as he settled me onto his chest with his uninjured arm. The room’s dark environment felt much brighter, with my friend to shepherd me. Nothing could harm me when he was around; not even a dog. The human tickled my chin with a low chuckle, and I rested my paws atop his stomach.

My eyes met his piercing gaze. “I was worried sick about you. How did it go? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I…I think I’m ready to move forward,” he replied. “But I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s talk about something else, alright?”

“Sure. How about what kind of predators humans are?”

“Shit, Slanek. Do we have to discuss that now? It’s 1 in the morning—”

“Yes, we do. You promised, and I think I deserve the truth. It’s like you don’t trust me, even after all we’ve been through together.”

Marcel searched my expression, a mix of concern and affection in his eyes. The human seemed reluctant to answer. His fear of losing me was palpable, from how his fingers tightened around my fur. What could be so sinister that it would alter my view of him, after all this time? I trusted him with my life; if my stupid instincts didn’t get in the way, I would take a bullet for him.

“It’s complicated,” he growled, after several seconds of silence. “Humans have employed every predation strategy in the book. Like Tyler said, dogs have helped us. We’ve set traps, used ambush tactics, fished, raised livestock…yes, I know you hate that word. But you asked.”

I tilted my head. “You said you weren’t ambush predators.”

“We’re versatile. Anyhow, what people claim we are, is one of the oldest hunting strategies known to mankind. It’s called persistence hunting.”

The human paused, as though expecting a dramatic reaction. My blank stare seemed to disappoint him; his lips curved downward even further. I could tell how much he disliked this topic, but we had already gotten this far.

Is that ‘persistence hunting’ phrase supposed to mean something to me?

“Continue? I don’t get it,” I pressed.

“Humans possess a high endurance, because of our sweating ability. We can run a lot longer…especially in the hot climates we originated in.” Marcel closed his eyes, unable to meet my gaze. “We were never faster than our prey. We just had more stamina. We chased them until they stopped running.”

A chill ran down my spine, as I processed the meaning of those words. Was he telling me that humans pursued their prey for hours… maybe even days? That they never tired, or gave up on a pursuit? Such an ordeal meant their quarry had an eternity to contemplate their demise. The victim spent their last day in a desperate, agonized flight. Their terror lasted much longer than the split second of an ambush.

My brain began to imagine running from a human, feeling the burning of my muscles and my lungs. The savage predator would draw closer, every time I paused to rest or dampened my pace. Knowing all the while that the second my legs gave out, my death was a certainty. There was no hope of escape, short of confronting the hunter.

What an awful way to go. Having your own body betray you, and languishing in a pool of chemical exhaustion. The predator would slowly approach, bloodlust in its eyes, signifying the end…I thought humans showed mercy? They conducted themselves like reasonable, kind, and feeling people; not relentless beasts that inflicted torment on the weak.

Tears streamed down my face, at the thought of my human partaking in that sort of predation. It felt awful, to think of him in that regard. If he was born a few thousand years ago, would he have chased helpless creatures through the scorching heat too? Was that what was coded in his instincts?

“Slanek? Gosh, you’re shaking.” Marcel rubbed my ear comfortingly. “Say something, please. Even if it’s that you hate me.”

Sadness seeped onto his expression, which knocked some sense back into me. It was painful to see how heartbroken he looked. I resisted the urge to swat his hand away, and attempted to regain my wits. The predator’s honesty was admirable, when he foretold precisely how I would react. I knew, in my soul, that my human would never dream of harming me.

It was time to stop fixating on their heritage, as much as anything predatory frightened my instincts. Humanity left their gruesome past behind, and had proven themselves more than capable of empathy. My reactions were the product of a stupid, irrational phobia. I wanted to love them fully, without awful thoughts creeping into my head all the time.

“O…okay. P-persistence. Got it,” I stammered.

The human blinked. “What?”

“I accept you, f-for whatever you are, because I care about you. No matter what.”

The predator clutched me tighter, and restrained his own tears. It was important for Marcel to know that he didn’t have to apologize for his existence. After wrestling with wretched self-doubts, my acceptance was essential for his mental welfare. Humans didn’t need to alter themselves to prove they were worthy of our friendship.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “Keep it between us, please. I’ll get in trouble for telling you.”

I flicked my ears. “Okay. That is an awful form of predation, which doesn’t exist on our world, so I get why you avoided the subject. But Tarva deserves to know. She would still stand by you; I’m certain.”

“I’d hope the governor would take heart, knowing the fruit our roots have borne. We just do the best with what we have in our toolset. Humans are survivors; whatever it takes, we have the resolve and the dedication.”

“How is that encouraging in any way, Marc?”

“Maybe it will help you to realize the lengths we would go for you, our Venlil friends. And you’ll know that we will hunt the Arxur to the ends of the universe; that there will be nowhere they can hide. We’ll battle a scourge like that as long as our species survives.”

Marcel’s argument was persuasive enough, when he phrased it like that. The Terran pledge to liberate sentient farm worlds, and all of their military aspirations, felt much more feasible. An arduous war wouldn't daunt humanity like it did for us.

I suppose there was another positive to their hunting methodology, in that it wasn’t a deceptive art. They had no reason to employ trickery, or extend a hand in a false friendship. This could be conveyed as a reason to trust humanity, if they played their cards right.

“You should get one of the UN people to ‘tell me.’ You’ll need to be more tactful with most Venlil; framing is everything.” I pinned my ears against my head, trying to keep a storm of negative emotions at bay. “I can think of a way to make your ancestry more palatable. Maybe just say you can withstand heat better, so you’re desert pursuit predators. Or shift the focus to your recent cattle practices.”

“Er, I’m not sure a close examination of factory farms is a good idea either. Never mind that. You took that better than I expected, by far, Slanek.”

“I want to stop panicking, but I don’t know how. My kneejerk reactions aren’t what I really think, once my brain comes around. But sometimes…usually, I can’t control it! You deserve a better friend.”

I ducked my head, feeling shame roll down my spine. Despite my constant efforts, my brain refused to forget that these lumbering primates were predators. My subconscious reminded me at every turn that humans weren’t like us, and that they could morph into feral beasts at any second. Marcel did deserve so much better.

All that time he wastes comforting me, and trying to calm me down. I’m a burden. A loser.

“Are you kidding? I got paired with the best Venlil.” Marcel offered his signature snarl, which was menacing yet gentle. “I wanted to be a part of the first contact program so bad. Do you know how many questions we had to answer?”

“30? 50? How many?”

“200, plus an in-person interview, a background check, and a psychological exam. All of my communications were analyzed since first contact, for any red flags. What was your selection process like?”

“I volunteered.”

“Um, right. I’m sure there weren’t a lot of takers for your position,” the red-haired human chuckled. “There was no guarantee that my partner would get past seeing me. You know from the stories around the outpost that some people didn’t.”

That was a true statement. Several Venlil fainted once in proximity of their penpals, and were taken to the infirmary. A smaller minority abandoned the program altogether, due to meeting their Terran counterparts.

I remembered how my fear had been almost painful that first day. It was no wonder a few Venlil found the humans too intimidating for cohabitation. Still, I couldn’t imagine how those predators felt, being rejected on sight after weeks of chatting.

The worst horror story was a Venlil that panicked at a human stepping into her room, and leapt into self-defense mode. She grabbed the nearest sharp object, which was a pair of scissors, and plunged it into the Terran’s shoulder. Her partner, while wounded, was able to wrestle the blade from her claws; the violence was not returned. The predator didn’t press charges, for some reason, despite Venlil government’s offer to prosecute.

Meanwhile, Marcel and I shared potato chips on our first day. Not the worst pairing he could’ve had, I suppose?

“Anyways. I talked to Lucy, you know, my fiancé, on the ride here. She wants me to come home, but I’ve gotten used to having you around.” Marcel took a deep breath, scratching his stubbly scalp. “Ah, maybe it’s not the right time to ask, after what I just told you.”

“No, I’m calm now. Go on.”

“How would you feel about living with us? You can come and go as you please. Any time you want to return to Venlil Prime, you don’t have to stay. But we’ll take care of all of your expenses, whenever you want to be here.”

I gaped at him. The idea of a permanent residence with my human filled my chest with warmth, but Earth was as alien as any world could get. A trial period was all I could commit to, to see how I handled prolonged exposure to a predatory environment. Would the UN…or technically, the regional government be okay with my staying?

“Er, I’ll think about it. Does that mean you’re going to receive a military discharge?”

“No. But I’ve requested a transfer home, so I can live planetside. I’ll only be involved with the defense of Earth, should that be necessary.”

“And what about Nulia? She needs you more than I do. She’d be devastated if she ends up in a camp, alone.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! We’re going to adopt her. I already spoke with Meier about the necessary paperwork, and he’s going to contact the American State Department. They’re starting from scratch on that one, I think.”

The Gojid child would be elated. I wondered how being raised by predators would impact her development, but I knew she’d grow up in a loving environment. It was obvious the human considered her to be his own daughter, and would care for her accordingly. There wasn't a more touching tale, than to witness these pursuit hunters rescuing the children of a species that swore to destroy Earth.

“Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out… Mawsle,” I whispered.

“Why, you fluffy little shit!” The human glowered at me, while I feigned ignorance. “Don’t you dare start that, too! I can and will rescind my offer.”

I wagged my tail. “Too late. No takebacks.”

My family back on Venlil Prime would say I was suicidal to accept; but the more I thought about his proposition, the more enticing it seemed. Navigating humanity’s diplomatic hurdles, helping a predator raise a prey child, and protecting their planet from harm could be my new calling. Maybe one day, Earth would even feel like my home.

At any rate, free rent sounded pretty darn good to my ears.

************************************************************

To Be Continued