The Nature of Predators 2-32 (Patreon)

Memory Transcription Subject: Taylor Trench, Human Colonist

Date [standardized human time]: June 25, 2160

The next generation of humans were a third of the way through development in ectogenesis. Soon, there wouldn’t be only thousands left of my kind. When I remembered what I was fighting for, it gave me the willpower to push through the hell General Radai was throwing at us. Ever since our engagement with the Sivkits, the Resket seemed hellbent on trying to break us, more than he had before. He’d made us run laps for hours, having some surprise when that didn’t crack us—well, it dropped Quana and other non-humans, but not the Tellus recruits. His next resort was extreme weather conditions, depriving us of the cooling systems of our helmets; sweating proved a handy adaptation.

I’d grown accustomed to aching all over at the end of each day, collapsing in my bunk with little energy to expend. Sleep was no guarantee, since Radai loved to burst in at the late hours of the night, forcing us to get up and hustle to a “mission.” The Resket definitely had it out for us, and the way he’d spoken to Tellus’ soldiers as of late resembled Mafani’s vitriol. At least boot camp was almost over, though I was seething at the lack of activity on the warfront. Why hadn’t the Consortium sent out the cavalry? They’d had a hundred years to plan for this eventuality; there was no reason progress should be so slow!

“Back up, Cherise,” Gress was saying, as I returned to the dorm from a half-assed shower. “You’re telling me that you wear these ‘high heels’ to look taller, balancing on that tiny stilt? Why does everything you do have to be so cute?!”

She rolled her eyes at the Krev. “Maybe in another life, back on Earth, I’d be a fashionista. It’s interesting to think of all the trends we had, the styles that gained popularity. I’ve never been a girly girl, but still…I want the experience of just wandering one of those retro malls, and shopping for the hell of it. Carefree like we were before aliens.”

“Then we should set up one of these ‘malls.’ I mean, I myself prefer online shopping, but—”

“What do you shop for, Gress?” I interjected. “Obor combs?”

“I only asked to brush your hair once! You’re the one who grew it out and tempted me.”

Quana’s head snapped toward us. “Gress forgets you’re a sapient being yet again. He treats you like some ‘cute thing’ without your own wants and desires.”

“All I did was ask, Quana. Taylor turned me down, so I dropped it. I can’t help that his face screams adorable; that doesn’t mean I don’t know he’s sapient.”

“Where did your daughter get the idea to beg to ‘keep him?’”

“I should’ve never told you about that,” I scoffed. “Lecca is a child. It was unbelievable, but a little humorous.”

Gress slumped his shoulders. “I was horrified when she said that. She doesn’t understand what she’s asking.”

“Taylor wouldn’t make a good pet. He’s too temperamental,” Cherise commented.

“Exactly!” I declared, grinning. “See, everyone knows that.”

“You weren’t supposed to agree with that.”

“Well, I did. And Quana, you can fuck back off to whatever you were doing before you butted into our conversation.”

The Jaslip pinned her ears back and bared her teeth. “You already make a great pet, and you don’t even see it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Heard. So Gress, back to your shopping habits. What do you even do for fun, other than raising obors or Lecca?”

Quana angled an ear toward the conversation. “He watches Jaslip kids die.”

Gress drew a shuddering breath, but ignored her. “Well, I used to do improv classes before I got married. That was how I met my wife, Nevi. I always had a knack for getting into character on the spot. Knowing what I know now, maybe I’d have gone into theater. I got a lead role in most school plays I auditioned for.”

“You were a theater kid? You know what: I can see that,” Cherise commented. 

“I’m picturing you doing a really dramatic reading of Hamlet right about now,” I offered.

Gress leapt toward me, jabbing a claw in my face. “Get thee to a nunnery!”

I snickered. Someone’s been reading The Bard’s works in his spare time. “How about no?”

“That’s not your line, Ophelia. Try again!”

“I think that Hamlet had more to say before Ophelia talked, Gressy boy. Go brush up your reading.”

“The only thing I intend to brush up is you! Get over here.”

The Krev pulled an obor comb out of his bag without looking back, and extended it toward me. I leapt away, holding out a hand to swat it away. The brush clattered to the ground, but that didn’t stop Gress. I yelped as the comms initiate chased after me, and grabbed at the underside of my upper arm with his claws. The green-scaled mammal’s machinations proved devious, lightly prodding and scratching the ticklish area. Involuntary laughter took over, as I jerked my arm away from the persistent fiend; it was difficult to breathe through the hysterics. Unrelenting, he tried to poke at my sides next, but I managed to fend off his plans.

“What are you doing?” I protested.

Gress paused for a moment. “Primates play through tickling. Your laughing fit betrayed that humans do as well.”

“You can’t just do that.”

“I can, and I did. What are you going to do about it?”

I lunged toward the floor, swiping the obor comb. Rather than resisting, Gress issued a happy sigh as I scratched his spine; his dark blue tongue flitted out of his mouth with contentment. That move hadn’t produced the intended results. What an irritating creature he was—he’d probably ask for me to do this again. I was glad I’d gotten to club him over the head once, that day on the landing pad, and I was thinking of braining him a second time right now. What had I been reduced to, all for some exchange program nonsense? To increase my humiliation, General Radai walked in as the Krev was leaning into the comb I grudgingly kept moving. I leapt to my feet in a hurry, trying to straighten up.

“Trench, with me. You’re meeting with Mayor Hathaway and myself in the command center,” the Resket squawked.

I tried to smooth over my still-damp hair. “Yes, sir. I’m right behind you.”

What is this about? If Hathaway wants me back in his office…first off, I thought that he hadn’t forgiven me for the drill fuck-up, and secondly, I wouldn’t take it. I don’t want to be a “pet” anymore; because I was his pet much more than I ever have been with Gress.

The training camp had become a permanent base, with its advantageous location on the Tellus hillside. Ever since the Federation incursion, the Trombil had diverted their resources away from building up our colony; everything that they had went to generating more ships and weapons, as many as they could possibly crank out. The metropolis was all but complete, yet most humans weren’t enjoying the new amenities—word of our system’s invasion caused almost every settler to volunteer for some wartime role. The abandonment of our build-up, after all, meant that there would be no cage around Tellus to safeguard our home.

“Sir, if this planet falls, the only humans left are the ones still growing in artificial wombs right now. I hope we’re doing something about the threat,” I ventured. “If I may, you seemed a bit hesitant when the Sivkits arrived. Almost as if you didn’t want to attack them.”

Radai’s steps became more forceful and pronounced, his lanky legs shoving down into the dirt. “I would’ve preferred to gather information and weigh possible attempts of other methods, because now, we’re locked on the path of all-out war. I don’t take that lightly.”

“Neither do I. My entire species got wiped out, sir, in our last bout. I sure as shit want my revenge. What made you decide to attack the Sivkits, if you preferred to sit on your wings?”

“I recognized that the crew would not heed my commands if I didn’t order you to annihilate them. You, and the majority of the human forces at my command, displayed gross insubordination. You panicked at the mere sight of them. I hope that I have not made a dreadful mistake. Either way, I’ve cemented a ghastly place in the history books, and I have blood on my wingtips.”

“We…we couldn’t let them bomb our home. We couldn’t let them find us. Not again.”

“I know you humans feel that way. However, you’ve proven that you’re not reliable assets in the field. Too obstinate, too headstrong. While your close-quarters combat skills are excellent, I can’t justify trusting you to the command of any non-human officer. This is why I’ve been testing you by the elements, because the only way you’ll see direct action is if electronics go down.”

“But sir—”

“Silence. Humans being briefed on our plans is a courtesy; you’re only here because you’re the liaison from Avor. You wanted this war, Trench, so let me fucking win it. Drones are more efficient than you could ever dream of being.”

I held my tongue as Radai stormed into his command center; I had to jog to keep up with the nine-foot-tall avian’s lengthy strides. A holographic starmap was projected from a large display, not dissimilar from those Terrans once had at the center of our bridges. It seemed to be a full display of the thousand-light-year bubble composing Federation space, with all known systems highlighted. Mayor Hathaway, riding a resurgence in popularity with the drastic improvements Tellus had seen, barely acknowledged me. He’d rebranded himself under the motto of a new era of workers’ rights, though he didn’t deserve the credit he’d received from that. I resented having been his fall guy and kissing the ring for so long.

The mayor stroked his graying beard in thought. “We need to reassure the populace of Tellus that they are safe, and that we have everything under control. The last thing we need is unrest; the citizenry is all too fickle. How do you suggest we go about this, General?”

“Management of the colonists here is in your domain. I’m here to relay the Consortium’s plans for the initial phase of the war, since you are a member state,” Radai responded. “Our plan is to utilize a decapitation strike. We’re sending an overwhelming drone force against the homeworld of each of the enemy’s founders: the Farsul and the Kolshians. We take down the peak of the Federation’s power.”

“Only two targets? What about the other 300 worlds?” I blurted.

Irritation flashed in the Resket’s eyes. “Three targets, swarmed by a hundred-fifty thousand ships each. We do want to leave a significant bulk of our force here, to protect Consortium worlds in case they come looking for us. Aren’t you the one who was so focused on protecting Tellus?”

“Yes, sir. That is sensible. Who is the third target you mentioned?”

“Nishtal, the Krakotl world.” Radai’s words brought gleefulness to my brain, at the thought of the birds who’d eliminated us getting their just desserts. “An old, powerful member that spearheaded the extermination fleet. As one of the most anti-predator factions, they must be crushed to break the Federation’s will.”

“I love your plan. It’s great.”

Mayor Hathaway heaved a sigh. “Let the grown-ups speak, Taylor. General, I’m certain that last target will buy us some political leeway. But how will we maintain contact with the vessels, so that we can know the results? Or touch base in case they need an update to their directives.”

“Our drones will be out of range of our FTL comms network,” the Resket replied. “We’ll try to drop buoys discreetly behind us, though each departure from subspace risks detection…and leaves traces of our tech that they could find. It’s also just flat-out a soft target that could be neutralized. In range of their primary systems, we’re better off tapping into their infrastructure.” 

“Then it’s possible that we’ll lose contact with the drones for large chunks of time?”

“That’s correct. If they can’t uplink with us after the battle, they’re slated to make several attempts by doubling back. The footage of their battle and any intelligence gained is invaluable. Regardless, barring an immediate surrender, the secondary targets will be powerful and loyal Federation members, such as the Malti, the Drezjin, and most certainly the Duerten. The last one is extremely influential and well-connected.”

I cleared my throat. “Okay. And what about the Arxur?”

“The Arxur, while monstrous, can be left until after the Federation’s fall. They’re on the opposite side of Fed space, so they don’t directly threaten us. We can worry about them after what we hope will be a quick, utter collapse of our dear neighbors. They might surrender after decisive wins in the places I mentioned, preventing the need for further loss of civilian lives.”

Hathaway pursed his lips. “In the event we did need to go further, I must ask about our allies, the Venlil. For all of their flaws, we remember that they tried to help us, and planned to fight with us at Earth. I doubt public opinion is in favor of killing them.”

“Venlil Prime is designated friendly, and will be avoided unless we are given no choice. We listened to your story; we heard that they aren’t like the rest.”

“Thank you. We greatly appreciate being filled in and having our concerns met, as part of your organization. It’s delightful to be included.”

Radai dipped his head. “You’ll also be apprised of the war’s developments as they happen. We’re in this together, Mayor. Let’s just make sure your people don’t forget that.”

“I’ll do what I can to keep them in line. You’ll find me to be a dependable advocate for the Consortium; it’s the least I can do in exchange for your bountiful aid.”

“We did gift you many things to get you off the ground. All we ask in return is respect and support. You’re dismissed, Trench. As Mayor Hathaway said, the adults have things we need to discuss on our own.”

“I’ll see myself out, sir,” I retorted.

My mind was whirling as I strolled out of the command center. I was the first person on this base to know that we were taking the fight to the “prey” xenos, and it’d brought my enthusiasm through the roof! Humanity wouldn’t have to fear the Federation coming after us if we ended their threat; we’d bury them in their crib the way they’d done to us, over two decades ago. It was a shame that Radai ruled out future action in person, though I grasped that drones had higher efficacy. It was a glorious view when I’d watched the Sivkits blink out of existence live, as particle beams lit them up like a firecracker. A goofy smile lingered on my face, imagining the first images of a dead Krakotl homeworld.

An eye for an eye. I wonder what Gress would think of that saying. I can’t tell whether he’d say it exemplified a primate’s violent tendencies, or straight up agree. Cherise, and probably Quana, want those blue birds flayed as much as I do.

In my distracted stupor, I didn’t notice a blur of pink out of my periphery. A Resket bowled his head into my side, flinging me backward several feet. Pain signals shot through various parts of my body like a pinball machine; I struggled to pick myself up, and look at my assailant. Trainer Mafani had ambushed me when I turned back toward the dorms. He must’ve seen me tailing after Radai earlier, and despite the general’s warnings to stay away, he seized his long-awaited opportunity when I exited alone. Wasn’t it dishonorable on Tanet to utilize the element of surprise on an unsuspecting victim?

“You! You terrorist-loving, chatterbox snitch! You sicced General Radai on me, and now, I might never train recruits again.” Venom dripped from Mafani’s voice, as he stamped a foot onto my spine: pushing me back to the dirt. “I was humiliated because of some lesser cloacasucker who tried to govern my speech. You’ll pay for everything, Taylor!”

I struggled to breathe with the weight pressing down on me. “It’s over. I don’t want…to quarrel with you.”

“It’s not about what you want, primate. I want you dead for what you’ve done to me—and I have no moral qualms about fighting dirty with anyone who sides with terrorists!”

“That someone isn’t me! Stop please…you’ve made your point. I’m a refugee from a dead world; you don’t want to k-kill anyone from an endangered species. You can’t! What happens if Radai finds out about this?”

“Radai is preoccupied. He’s not here to save you this time. I’m going to tie you up, leave you out in the desert that I hear you wanted to explore, to bake in the sun I hear you craved on your face so badly. I’ll put a beacon on you so that you are found in a few days, and they see the pitiful way you died. They’ll find you bound like an animal, having soiled yourself and struggled against the restraints until your fingers bled. When you hallucinate for a drop of water, I hope you think of me.”

“That’s sadistic! You…I don’t want to die. Please, I’ll do whatever you want.”

“I’m going to inject you with a paralytic, so you won’t be able to struggle—or talk—until it’s too late. Enjoy being locked in your own mind, Taylor Trench.”

Mafani jabbed a needle into my neck, while I tried to scream for help; unfortunately, I couldn’t generate much noise with his weight pressing into my lungs. As my mind remained conscious, my body refused to obey my commands within minutes. I found myself wishing that Gress was here to save me, to play the role of hostage negotiator as he’d done in the past. However, as the twisted Resket trainer began carting me off toward a tucked-away vehicle, there was no one around to save me. I’d made plenty of mistakes over my lifetime, but I didn’t deserve to die like this!

Terror plagued my mind as I was hurled in the back of a truck, and rope was coiled tightly around my limbs.

A/N - Chapter 32! Gress and Quana’s feud continues as the Krev continues to find humans adorable in every way, but Taylor is summoned to Radai right as a tickle fight breaks out. The Consortium finalized plans for a decapitation strike, going after the Farsul, Kolshians, and Krakotl with 150K ships bound for each system; they’ve already decided the next targets as well. Our narrator is delighted by that, but his fantasies are interrupted when Mafani blindsides him, blaming Taylor and seeking his head after being demoted from Trainer.

What do you think of the Consortium’s war plans, and whether the Sapient Coalition will be able to respond to them—and how it might change their rules of engagement if the attack works? Will anyone be able to find Taylor and learn how low Mafani has stooped?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting!