The Nature of Predators 2-21 (Patreon)

Memory Transcription Subject: Taylor Trench, Human Colonist

Date [standardized human time]: March 21, 2160

My gaze wasn’t sure where to settle, between the six lazing diplomats from each species. Every set of eyes was on me, from the Ulchid who had her tail-leg curved beneath her like a mermaid, to the curled-up Smigli, to the Trombil, whose eye socket was evidently made of metal. I approached the table with a sheepish posture, and watched Cherise tiptoe forward with trepidation. However, it was Gress who seemed the most uncomfortable of us all, standing in this room. The Krev delegate stood from his chair to greet my friend, his expression brimming with reverence and pride. The rent collector became more hunched over, like he was resisting the urge to curl up into a ball. If the effervescent leader noticed, he gave no indication of it.

“Gress; if it isn’t always a pleasure to see you! I don’t know how you convinced the humans to tell you the truth, but you came through once again,” the delegate announced. “The greatest miracle worker of a generation.”

“Delegate Riccin,” Gress’ eyes flicked toward me, silently communicating that all he did was get bludgeoned over the head and scream at me. “I hope that the Planetary Board is briefed on everything I documented about the humans. We have a moral duty to help these downtrodden refugees, after we’ve unwittingly worsened their plight.”

A Resket pointed his beak straight at me, his long, pink-feathered neck holding eerily still. “It was impossible to know that the humans were refugees, when they hid away their lives and their faces. They pushed us away at every turn, and didn’t honor their bargains. Not to mention, everything they did say was a lie or an omission.”

“I’d like to apologize for that,” I piped up tentatively. “From our point of view, every species we’ve ever encountered wished us dead when they saw our eyes. You’re clearly a more powerful group of species—we knew that even before we witnessed your tech level here. We didn’t want you to finish us off.”

“No, I understand that, human. After how every species has treated you…reduced to a population in the mere thousands, probably no more than the number of people who work on this floor…you’re wary. I wouldn’t be a fan of aliens if all I knew was the Federation either. I’m General Radai, Resket delegate and leader of the Consortium military.”

“I’m Taylor, and that’s Cherise. No fancy titles for either of us, but we’re honored to be here.”

“This one likes blowing smoke up our tail feathers, huh? Knock it off. No wonder Gress saw through your phony spiel about covering your faces. Look, whatever debates we might’ve had in the past about putting an end to your little villa, that’s over. All’s forgiven. I just don’t agree with the sole blame of this debacle being placed on our wings.”

Riccin, the Krev leader, settled back in his seat. “It’s not so important to worry about blame or the past. We need to focus on protecting them from the Federation, now that we know the truth.”

“As long as the humans are through with this mask-wearing, secrecy wormshit, everything will be fine.”

“We’re going to be transparent as possible,” I replied. “Anything you want answered about our culture, just ask. We’ve already shared what little we have of Earth with Gress.”

Cherise straightened, raising a finger. “Hang on a minute. How serious is the Consortium about respecting religious customs?”

“We’re accommodating of all faiths,” the Smigli answered, rotating their stubby arms. “My name’s Viddel, for what it’s worth. Let us know if we’ve violated any of your genuine observances.”

“I’m working on that. I heard what Radai said about mask-wearing ‘wormshit.’ There are multiple Terran faiths which use some kind of head covering legitimately. I feel compelled to speak up, before any discrimination starts. Are you going to look down on them for hiding their faces, or downplay the cultural importance of that?”

Seeing the representatives’ confusion, I jumped in to elaborate. “For instance, there’s a man named Aadan who is a Sikh. He wears a turban, which is a sort of wrap around his hair, as a sign of purity and devotion before his God. One of the nicest, most progressive individuals in the colony.”

“Taylor cites one of many examples. Muslim women cover their faces with a hijab or a burka, as a sign of modesty. Catholic nuns wear a veil to show devotion, and then there’s smaller symbols like yamakas—”

Radai shoved his beak into his wing. “You have all of these examples of genuine religious requirements for face coverings, and you didn’t think to use one of them to explain your constant self-concealment?! I won’t pretend to understand, but that would’ve sold your ‘private culture’ much better.”

“We considered it, but there’s too many predatory elements to almost every faith: we could never hand over our religious texts. Even the most pacifist, vegetarian, and all-that beliefs would’ve mentioned violence or hunting, regardless of if it was only to disavow them.”

Viddel seemed to communicate their emotional shifts through slight wiggles. “Please do provide information on your faiths and customs to our cultural sensitivity departments, Taylor. That’s one of the branches with the highest number of Smigli staffers, I’ll add.”

“It’ll be important to document and pass on human customs…if we help raise a new generation of humans. That’s what we’re here to talk about, right? They’re one natural disaster away from extinction,” Gress ventured.

“I think we all agree that we’re going to help them. The question is deciding what each species can offer them.” Riccin’s gaze floated over Cherise and I, softening in the way a human’s would glancing at a cute puppy. “Your proposal for ectogenesis was clever, but I believe that would be the Trombil’s department. Evala, would you care to do the honors?”

The Trombil delegate turned her head fully toward me, and with the reptile addressing me, I could no longer avoid looking at her uncanny features. One of her eyes was missing altogether, replaced by a central robotic socket and metal splotches that were melded down the side of her face; where her iris should’ve been, there was only a lapis blue glow. When I fully leveled my binocular vision on her, it was impossible not to notice that her face was just the start of the cybernetic implants. Every one of her limbs was replaced by metal, not even attempting to hide their artificiality with fake skin. I would’ve never gawked at someone for utilizing prosthetics, except that I got the impression Evala had amputated her real limbs by choice.

The arms appear to have more supple manipulators, while the legs look longer than what Gress showed me in holograms. Do the Trombil see technology as a way to…improve their capabilities, like strength or speed?

“Like what you see?” Evala teased, brightening her bioluminescent shell briefly in what I inferred to be a playful gesture. “The Trombil integrate technology as much as possible, going beyond where other species are willing to venture. Machines can do so much more than we ever could. Stronger, faster, smarter. Why not embrace the possibility of exceeding our natural limits?”

“I’ve just never seen anything on this level. We have prosthetics at home, but nothing…consider it a compliment that I’m continually amazed and shellshocked by the Consortium’s tech level,” I managed.

“You can speak your mind. Radai was right to chastise you. For what it’s worth, you’re hardly the only one to be leery of replacing parts of yourself with mechanical ones; we’ve been trying to persuade the Reskets to adopt them for military uses. Imagine the military implications…being able to lift slabs of rubbles that are [hundreds of pounds.] Being able to see in heat vision, and with an information overlay that maps the landscape and monitors your vitals, in real time. Having the option to shut off your brain’s pain receptors if you’re captured. Downloading information instantly, instead of having briefings, and upping processing levels to—”

“Yes, yes, we get it, Evala. You don’t need to preach to the newbies.” Radai hissed with irritation, spreading his wings to make himself even larger. “We can enhance our capabilities without drilling out our eyes. Ever heard of contact lenses? You can have an augmented reality overlay, and turn it off when the day is done. Meanwhile, you’re a walking EMP target.”

“And you’re just a walking target, being [nine feet] tall! Being the strongest doesn’t mean much when you’re the easiest to hit with a bullet.”

Gress issued a nervous laugh, drawing attention his way. “Why don’t we focus on aid for Tellus? Every second we spend bickering is an extra second the humans are stuck in that hovel.”

“The primates should come live on Avor, if it’s that shoddy. At least long enough for construction to take place,” Riccin said.

“We’d like our own space.” Cherise shot down the suggestion, clasping her hands behind her back. “The worst part of our hovel was the back-breaking labor and lack of sunlight. Fixing those two issues would mean marked improvement.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. We’ll return everything that was collected as payment, and it’ll only be a drop in the bucket. If you won’t come here, it would mean a lot to us if we put this ‘exchange program’ idea into effect. We’d also like to arrange a travel flow, to improve much more than those basics.”

“I think I speak for all of us in saying that we’d welcome all of the help, and that we accept your hand of friendship. Tell you the truth, it’s like finding an oasis in the desert. I’m curious to know the estimates for your construction plans, and just what you plan to give us.”

Well shit, Cherise is doing my job better than I am. It’s a good thing she came with me, because Gress should’ve never requested that I handle this. Humanity needs a better representative, but thankfully, this is my last hurrah.

The light flickered in Evala’s bionic eye for a moment, before refocusing. “I ran a quick series of calculations. With the Krev supplying the necessary materials, we should be able to 3D-print a proper metropolis aboveground and haul in orbital defense platforms in six weeks time. I’m afraid constructing a full cage and ring system—Riccin’s specialty—will be an even lengthier process, years-long.”

My jaw just about dropped to the floor. “‘Even lengthier?’ You’re telling me you can build like, skyscrapers, roads, transits—that kind of metropolis—in weeks?”

“If that’s what you want. We’ll leave it up to Tellus’ settlers to decide the specifications you have in mind, and to review any changes you might need for culture or biology.”

“A good example is Ulchids having three legs, so we don’t do stairs,” the tripedal delegate offered her first words. “Ramps and chutes are much more our style.”

A mental image floated through my head of an Ulchid traveling down a floor via slides; I raised a hand over my lips, trying to hide my smirk. If we were allowed to change specifications, we should request chutes as a descent option—because that would be fun. Actually, forget about going down a few floors; we should have these Consortium planners whip up an automated amusement park, like what we used to have on Earth. Something like those train tunnels from the Space Rings could become the galaxy’s tallest roller coaster, the centerpiece. I found myself getting rather swept up in the idea, after the Ulchid’s remark, though I tried to bring myself back down to Avor. Now that the triped had spoken up, the Jaslip representative was the only one who hadn’t said a peep.

I pursed my lips, before lowering my palm. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Dioki. I don’t feel the need to say much, other than that we’ll hook you up with FTL comms and keep the supplies flowing. Logistics are our department, so you’ll have as much food, medicine, and commodities as you need,” the Ulchid answered.

“Great. As Gress so diplomatically pointed out, we’re not exactly living in excess.” I hesitated, finding myself unable to bite back the question about the Consortium’s singular, Federation-like focus on one area. Well, Radai and Evala told me to be a straight shooter, right? “If I may, I have some questions about the Consortium. I’ve been told that you all take on a specialty, for the group, but I find it…strange that your whole species would only do one thing, like them.”

“It’s not like every Ulchid works in one avenue. It just has the bulk of the government’s backing, Taylor. This way, it devotes an entire planet’s resources, and unites us behind a single-goal. All species can feel like they contribute to the Consortium, and it makes it clear-cut who to talk to for any particular thing.”

Radai raised his head with pride. “We all have areas of strength to complement each other. I agree with the human’s assessment that the Federation’s reductionism…their homogeneity seems unnatural. However, we found a lesson to be learned in their ways: one worthy of replication by the merits of its efficiency.”

“At least in the Consortium, our speciality is our choice. We could change it at any time, whereas I get the distinct impression the Federation isn’t so flexible,” Evala remarked.

The Smigli delegate chuckled. “We all have things to offer you. My people will give you access to entertainment, an entire deluge of media and live performers.”

“I would like that very much. I was talking about how I’m itching to see live music,” I replied, noticing the other representatives’ postures growing dismissive of the oversized worm’s offer. “God, we haven’t had any new entertainment—certainly not any with a proper production budget—in decades.”

Radai hissed in irritation. “Your species is nearly eradicated. You don’t need fucking movies. What you need is protection, like Riccin said, and you can count on us to send personnel and bring you some real ships. Feeling safe does a lot more for morale than a damn concert.”

“There’s no reason the two are mutually exclusive. That said, military and rebuilding are tops on our agenda,” I responded. “As a matter of fact, I had some interest in joining the armed forces myself. Finally, you know, being able to fight back against the Federation. Would you take human volunteers, or is it only Reskets?”

“Would we? Shit, you’re gonna have to get trained our way if you expect us to fork over our ships. We have to know that you can be disciplined and up to snuff, before we trust you with the good stuff. The Consortium military accepts all species into our ranks; it’s just that, even adjusting for other race’s fitness peaks, Reskets are the most capable of completing the grueling training.”

“Boot camp. That’s something we know a thing or two about,” Cherise commented. “I think myself and a lot of the militia would be interested.”

“That usually scares would-be recruits off. Tell you what: when we start training infantry on Tellus, I’ll oversee you two’s regiment myself. See what you humans are made of…and toughen you up as needed. Unless you wimp out, report to whatever base we set up for you.”

“Great. I’ll be there,” I cast a glance at Gress, remembering that he was the one who encouraged me to follow this path. “If I’m not being too nosy, just how many ships do you have in your fleet? You’re way more advanced than them, from what I’ve seen.”

“Over a million.”

“Dude…and you can really fight. You could kick their sorry behinds! Why keep hiding? You all could take them.”

“That’s an entire can of insects,” Riccin offered. “A constant debate in these walls. The Krev have concerns about killing trillions of civilians, which would be necessary to truly wipe these species out.”

Dioki parted her rostrum, a forlorn look in her eyes. “Those more in favor of intervention have argued that we’re letting civilians die to the Arxur. It’s like we’re hoping those monsters will do the dirty work for us, frankly.”

“All that matters is the Consortium’s safety, and eliminating the threat,” the Resket squawked, a statement that was quite in line with our colony’s position. “I just don’t want to take the slightest risk of losing due to some unaccounted factor. Scouting could expose us, and that’s why you humans are a gift. You have up-to-date, complete information.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I’ll give all of you some up-to-date information. The longer we don’t stop them, the greater chance they find another predator race like us, and wipe them out too. That’s who you’re really allowing to die.”

“I understand your frustration, and for what it’s worth, I agree with the sentiment. However, the more time that we buy for ourselves, the stronger our organization grows. We can’t rush into a war. Consortium wishes to guarantee a swift and decisive win.”

I bit my tongue, knowing that arguing with the species Gress warned me not to piss off was ill-advised; questioning the Consortium’s agenda during our first meeting wouldn’t earn humanity brownie points. I would love to see the day where we made those bastards pay for what they’d done to Earth, but I was here to improve humanity’s present situation. This pact of six species had offered us everything that we needed to regain our bearings, and then some. At the least, with the Reskets’ training and ship donations, we’d be able to defend themselves if the Federation came to finish the job. We wouldn’t live and toil in underground hovels any longer.

I know what every species is willing to chip in, except for the Jaslips. They’re in charge of defenses and evacuations, right? I thought they’d be the most sympathetic, having lost their homeworld to aliens too.

“What about you?” I ventured, making a sweeping gesture toward the fluffy, three-tailed quadruped. “I’ve heard from the others, but I don’t want to leave you out. Are you willing to help us out?”

Gress twitched his claws. “Taylor, you might not want to…”

“Frenelda doesn’t speak much, as a form of protest,” Evala finished.

“I’m not listened to, so why should I speak?” The Jaslip perked her triangular ears up, forward-facing eyes locking on the Trombil. “I’d offer to help with your bunker construction, but you seem to have underground complexes pre-built. Can I give you some advice for free?”

“Gladly,” Cherise answered for me. “Whether we have belowground shelters or not, I’m sure we could learn from your expertise.”

“Hmph. Given your population numbers, I was going to suggest you build a bunker away from your settlement, and keep someone there at all times. For continuity of species. As we both are well aware, you never know when someone is going to bomb your planet without warning.”

Riccin threw his claws in the air, tongue poking out of his mouth in exasperation. “Really?! Is anything ever not about Esquo?”

“See, humans? They want me to stay silent, so they can forget what they did.”

“Leave the primates out of this, Frenelda. They never even had a chance to evacuate Earth, and they lost magnitudes more people than you did—yet you still pity yourself.”

“You mistake my rage for self-pity. It’s a tragedy what happened to the humans, but you’re going to take it as proof that you had to commit genocide. What I heard is that there were other options; your military is stronger. You could’ve fought them, not us.”

Radai rose to his feet, intimidating the Jaslip into silence. “That is enough! The humans came here to get aid, and they’ve received it. Now, we haven’t accepted a new race since our foundation, but it should be straightforward. I take it as a formality that you’ll join the Consortium?”

“Yes, humanity would love the chance to be a part of a—” I attempted.

“Good. We’ll be in touch, to set up proper channels and coordinate the process. And don’t worry: I’ll follow through on my promise to oversee your training. Humanity will run on good legs. You’re dismissed.”

The Resket snapped his beak back to Frenelda, and I got the distinct impression they all planned to chew out the Jaslip as soon as we left. A significant part of me wanted to intervene, and tell them to back down, but I knew Mayor Hathaway would have my hide if I screwed up the oodles of aid we’d just been offered. We needed the Consortium’s bountiful assistance, and I couldn’t challenge the Jaslips being tag-teamed while acting as Tellus’ representative. Gress was right about it being a necessary sacrifice, to stop Esquo from meeting Earth’s end, but I understood why the arctic carnivores were bitter. It always stung the most when it was your planet, and your people under siege.

Keeping my true opinions to myself for what I hoped was the last time, I followed Gress out of the chamber in silence; Cherise was close behind, after casting a sympathetic glance at Frenelda. I curled my fist into a ball, and tried to remember what was at stake. The Reskets agreed to train the two of us, along with Tellus’ militia personnel. My new life, far away from the political arena, needed to be a way to atone for my mistakes. It was time to offer true service to humanity, and finally have a chance to stand up against anyone who aimed to strike us down.

A/N - Chapter 21! Taylor and Cherise address the Consortium delegates, as the humans share a bit of cultural insight and the Krev officially pledge aid; Taylor offers to join the military training, which General Radai promises to lead himself. Each Consortium race offers their own aid, from FTL comms to an auto-constructed metropolis…to movies. It’s explained why the Consortium replicated the Federation’s specializations…and we learn their ship total, at over a million, which Taylor thinks is ample resources to take the Feddies.

What are your thoughts on our first interactions with the other five KC species? How will Tellus and the ark humans fare with the newfound aid and additions? What do you think of Taylor’s decision to turn to fighting back?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting! Here’s a new lore doc: the Trombil.