The Nature of Predators 2-69

Memory Transcription Subject: Taylor Trench, Human Colonist

Date [standardized human time]: December 23, 2160

The stupid bird sat outside my prison cell, playing solitaire—a human game—from what I could see through the window. The bed and the smart-television were lavish comforts compared to what a predator would’ve gotten under prey species’ watch; they’d stripped the clothes off the back of the first Terran prisoner they obtained, and only given him unclean water from a pail. They beat him to a pulp for smiling that his Venlil friend was alright. Despite having suitable accommodations, I hadn’t slept a wink between my mind racing, and wondering what Gress was going through. One thought roared around my brain like a tempest: if my people had survived, was it possible my parents had pulled through? What would they even think of me, and how could they defend why they sent me off alone?

Alone. While they were happy and content on Earth, and forgot all about our little expedition. It should bring me a relief to know our home planet was still out there, with everything we’d done to preserve our culture, yet all I could think was how unrecognizable Terran society would be now. My life had been wasted; my suffering was meaningless. All of those mornings brushing my teeth, and hating the binocular eyes that stared back from my reflection—a waste. The mirror in this cell was still my enemy, showing that I was right to hide my face beneath the mask; it was the visage of a monster, after all. I’d forced Radai to pull the trigger on the Sivkit ships, which incited this whole war. I encouraged the Consortium to go after the Federation out of hatred, without thinking at all. My people could’ve been reunited with our home sooner. 

The only thing that mattered to you was protecting Gress: the one person who ever loved you, despite how little you deserve it. Instead, you just put him in danger by chasing revenge, because you’re violent, angry, and short-sighted. Earth was lucky to be rid of you.

While I’d once thought the universe was denying my species any solace or joy, I now knew that it was me as an individual whose lot was misery. I hurtled a chair across the room, right as the door swung open. Cala hopped back, barely holding onto a tray she was balancing. The Krakotl stared at me for a long moment, noticing the sweat soaking my hair and the veins popping from my reddened skin. How I wanted to wrap my hands around her throat and throttle her. Despite the fact I wasn’t the least bit hungry, my mouth watered as I smelled greasy bacon, and saw pancakes steeped in maple syrup. The wealth of food they took for granted back on Earth, available on every street corner; I hoped the bird wasn’t bringing me tofurky shit. That would be a tease, after how long it’d been since I had a nice, home-cooked breakfast. I lived on granola and meal squares.

“I guess the way to a predator’s heart is through food,” I grunted, wolfing down a bacon strip. The salty flavor was so incredible, I almost sank to my knees with a satisfied shudder. “I wonder what restaurants are like on Earth now, with those frail herbivore sensibilities. I don’t remember what it was like then, and I’ve got even less clue how it is today. Not like a bird would know.”

The Krakotl squawked in protest. “I live on Earth.”

“What, for boot camp? You disgrace the UN logo; they shouldn’t let you wear—”

“I’ve lived on Earth for over two decades, and joined the Peacekeepers thirteen years ago. I’m a British citizen.”

I snorted with derision, a wicked smile crossing my lips. “That’s fucking great! You moved right on in to my planet, while I was forced to leave it at nine years old. What were you doing at the time of the battle: playing Polly wanna cracker?”

“No. I was part of the extermination fleet, Taylor. That’s why I ended up on Earth.”

“The fuck did you just say?” The fork and knife clattered out of my hand, as I no longer cared whether the pancake would grow soggy. “How dare you come in here? You’re worthless, despicable—you stole EVERYTHING! Slaughtering us all like vermin, and you think you could ever make nice with—”

“I was eight years old. My parents stuck me in the extermination fleet. I have nightmares about what those Krakotl did, and what I did. I just pressed the buttons they told me to, which resulted in so many stupid fucking deaths! I was younger than you were leaving Earth, when they had me dropping bombs on predators.”

“You dropped the fucking bombs, yourself?” My fist clenched tighter, as a tension headache formed a band around my skull. This thing helped genocide my species, proving the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. “Eight years old, and already a murderer? The Krakotl send literal kids on a field trip to wipe us out. And your whole little beef jerky stunt, chomping on meat, is trying to prove what: that you’re a predator yourself now?”

“We ourselves were omnivores just like you! The Federation, in their infinite wisdom, cured us. The guilt I feel, now that I understand my part in Terran suffering? That’s why I’m a Peacekeeper. Maybe I’ll make up for it, and be better than those fuckwits. Maybe I’ll die, like I should have for what I’ve done.”

“Then you agree that you’re unworthy of breathing Earth—or any planet’s—oxygen?”

“I am unworthy of your species’ kindness and compassion. I won’t resist if you think I deserve execution here and now, but the idea was to give my life for a cause, in the service of humanity; to save a few lives for all I’ve taken. There’s no good deed that can eclipse what I’ve done, yet I must try. Let me do something worthwhile, for you and for Tellus.”

I scowled at the bird, feeling a coldness in my heart a thousand times deeper than what I’d held against the Krev; this was the face of the people responsible for everything wrong with my life. My fingers curled around the knife. Despite knowing it was a dull blade, it was the nearest cutting instrument in reach. Cala being in the extermination fleet would’ve been like if my people sent nine-year-old me to defend Earth, which was a laughable prospect—an elementary school child in the military was beneath even us predators’ standards. It was bizarre to think that was acceptable to them, but I knew I would’ve questioned it if my parents told me to drop bombs on a planet! Also, I didn’t really care to learn that the Federation “cured” the Krakotl, since they had to be a monstrous species to slaughter us without mercy. 

What did slap me in the face was how the blue-feathered murderer spoke. Trying to atone for bloodshed she caused, with guilt that could never be undone: I related to that rationale. It was the same reason I had joined the military, to serve humanity in the wake of the drilling accident I incited. That crushing sense of responsibility had never truly left me. However, my volatility made me a liability as a soldier, which was why I’d been forced to realize there were other ways to aid my species. Being a better person meant reflecting on the flaws that had landed me in that spot in the first place. The Federation were the original villains, if I set my emotions aside; they dumbed down the other species on purpose. The exterminators’ “kill all predators” theme song started and ended with them. If there was peace with the ugly birds, I wasn’t going to ruin it again.

Assuming this…Krakotl is truly capable of feeling guilt, and isn’t just mimicking my own expression of that from reading my transcript, I might be able to get a message through to Gress. He’s all I have. This isn’t his first time getting captured by humans, away from his home and daughter, but these ones have a lot more power; he must be frightened. As much as a Krev is capable of fearing a furless primate…

I turned the knife to saw off a piece of the pancake, popping it into my mouth with the other utensil. “I’d like to see your fucking transcripts. Whatever grand mentality went through our killers’ heads—that oughta be something.”

“I have nothing to hide, if it’ll make you feel better. I’ll pick out enough for you to get the gist of where I’ve been,” Cala sighed. “How are the pancakes? I made the type from your home country, not the thin sort my human Papa would make and fold up in triangles. I know you Yanks prefer the artery-clogging edition.”

“Do I look like I’ve been eating any processed foods?!” I protested, through a full mouth. 

“I saw the bag of…obor treats in the lounge, and no obor.”

“That’s berries and sugar: it’s not that processed. And that was a recent addition to my diet. It reminds me of something I faintly remember from Earth…riding in a shopping cart with Mom through the bakery section of the grocery store, and sometimes, she’d let me pick out a cookie.” My eyes watered, remembering the faint memories of a childhood I’d had. I wouldn’t know my family if I saw them; they might as well be strangers. I remembered the fucking pastries better than Mom’s face. “I liked the ones with the shitty icing. I remember what could’ve been, if not for aliens. If I hadn’t been sent away, banished—now the best years of my life are fucking gone. Never to return.

Cala nudged me, noticing that I was pushing the food around my plate. “If I can be candid, be grateful you had those best years—parents who loved you, and gave half a flying fuck what happened to you. Not everyone does. Some people never had a happy childhood. I barely remember how my real dad looked, but instead of cookies, I remember yelling. Being locked in closets. Made your Tellus cavern look roomy.”

“Roomy? Fuck you! It wasn’t a five-star resort, my entire living quarters were smaller than this fucking cell. You don’t know shit about what I went through.”

“I wish I didn’t know. My living quarters were smaller than my prison cell too, and my cage had literal bars. Believe me, that I know what it is to live in darkness, because electricity is seen as a waste for you. To hide anything you enjoy for fear of a reprimand at best, and that sliver of happiness’ destruction at worst. I even know what it is to have done something reprehensible, which cannot be undone or taken back, for a cause so utterly pointless. Some people know only that reality, including the very settlers born on Tellus. Some people never knew there was anything better.”

“Some people never…shit. I, um, didn’t think of it that way.”

“It can always be worse, Taylor. I think that might be my life motto. I even wrote a song with those five words as the title.”

“Sounds like a cheery-ass tune, real crowd pleaser. We should make that the Tellus national anthem.”

Cala trilled with bitter amusement. “As if you’d pick a song written by a Krakotl to represent you. A Krakotl that bombed Earth to boot.”

“It stabs at me to hear that any bombs fell on my beloved homeworld. At least you didn’t fucking succeed in killing us off. At least neither of us succeeded, for that matter; we got our asses handed to us at Nishtal and Talsk. I’m sure you’ll have no problems at Aafa.”

The Krakotl winced, her head snapping back. “About that. Aafa…well, I think you have the right to know what’s going on in the galaxy. The Arxur and a faction called, and I shit you not, the Federation remnants, started shooting at each other instead of the Consortium drones. The planet was lost, and your forces are still out there, which is why we need you to help talk them down.”

Despair punched me in the gut. The war I set in motion had devastating consequences after all; how many had we murdered? What the fuck did Cala mean by Federation remnants, when they’d all told me the organization was destroyed? Perhaps having lost an entire world would render peace impossible between the KC and the SC. Regardless of how much progress the Earth humans claimed to have made with their herbivore allies, these were the same prey that had insisted we would inevitably slaughter them all. This could slander my entire species, and the United Nations for creating our group. The terrible wars that threatened us all might never end; we’d have to live in fear for as long as our kind existed! Even so, learning the scale of the innocent lives lost, much like how Cala had rained antimatter down on Earth, was the most crippling at all.

The Kolshians were already defeated. I mean, of course, we know they’re responsible for distorting the entire array of Federation species, but that’s just…more blood on my hands. I’m a monster. I deserve to die every bit as much as Cala.

“The Arxur and Federation fighting had nothing to do with you. That was their old hatred, and it would’ve blown up somewhere, some time,” the Krakotl offered, as tears flowed down my cheeks. “We read your transcripts. You were eager for revenge on Earth, yet even so, you neither made nor had any say in the decapitation strike plan. It’s a shitty situation, sure, but the SC has forgiven worse. We can stop this from happening anywhere else, okay? If the KC want to be friends, I’m sure humans will oblige. Especially since the Krev were protecting you.”

I gritted my teeth. “They were protecting themselves too, but also for nothing. What fucking reason is there to hope that things will get better? What, that it could always be worse?”

“It could be worse. If I had told you a few days ago to pick between having Aafa bombed or Earth bombed, it’d have been a no brainer; your home is here. There are still plenty of possibilities ahead of us to restore order. It’s only when a baby chick falls from the nest that they realize they need to fly, Taylor. We’ve hit the ground, the absolute floor. There’s an entire sky overhead, and we’re in a place to make its reclamation happen.”

I gestured to the room around me. “From a prison cell?”

“You won’t stay imprisoned long; neither you nor Gress will. If they charged you, they’d have to charge every ark settler and Krev infantryman, which they won’t want.”

“How do you know that, when we’ve bungled every improvement the UN made through our actions?”

“The UN wants reconciliation, and they put out an announcement on Earth about reuniting loved ones. We made contact with Tellus, you know, and they’re aware that humanity is alive now. Perhaps it might help you feel less alone, to recall that you’re going through this alongside all of your fellow colonists.”

“They answered? Captain Sylvia must’ve put you in touch with them.” I knitted my eyebrows together, recalling a panicked Cherise passing out pamphlets about the KC’s defeat. She’d wanted us to board a new ark. “What—how are my people reacting?”

“Mayor Hathaway offered an unconditional surrender of any Tellus military forces, and we’ve established diplomatic channels. I’d describe the few blokes we’ve talked to as shellshocked, inquisitive about Earth and loved ones. I don’t know how the common people have reacted, though they promised they’d make an announcement soon.”

“That should go over without any hiccups—and yes, I’m being sarcastic. It all goes back to the Grand Herd. The Sivkits just came to reclaim the world the Federation stole; we know that. Still, after laboring to be allowed to stay on Tellus…it’s really all pointless if humans leave. That’s been our home for twenty-three years. Like you said, it’s the only world some of our settlers have ever known.”

“That’s exactly where my idea for how you could help comes in,” Cala chirped. “You were the liaison of Tellus to the KC. Why not be the liaison of Tellus to us? You’re already cozy with Consortium parties, enough to help humanity establish proper diplomatic relations. You could also help put a better foot forward with the SC, plead the ark colonists’ case, and make nice with any aggrieved parties—starting with the Sivkits.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You know I’m not a diplomat.”

“Is anyone in your colony?”

“No. But if you read my transcripts, you know I just kissed up to the KC. I don’t want to be the person that capitulates to every demand, for Tellus’ sake.”

“Then don’t be that person. You know what the ark colonists want. You know what it’ll take to get peace. What better way is there to leave your vengeful past behind than to suggest yourself as someone that can mend those fences?”

I swallowed. “A quiet, happy life with Gress was what I wanted, not buddying up with the same aliens that hated us then, and now have actual reason to do so.”

“As long as Tellus has enemies, you won’t have a quiet, happy life. You have the rare opportunity to put an end to a debacle you were a part of, so think on it. The choice should be simple.”

The Krakotl collected the dirty dishes, as I chewed on the last of the breakfast and considered what she’d said. My hope, for the longest time, had been to serve humanity’s interests, and securing peace with their current allies would be an unequivocal way to do that. I knew that I was a failed diplomat, only schooled in appeasement, and prone to hot-headed outbursts ever since the drilling accident. However, the fact remained that I was a prisoner of war en route to Earth, who played a part in prolonging this tragic misunderstanding. The best way to protect Gress, and attempt to prevent the Consortium from facing steep consequences for aiding us, would be to try to smooth feathers. I wasn’t sure that I was capable of such a thing, but at least it was finally a cause worth caring about.

As the only representation the ark settlers would have in the Orion Arm, it fell on me to earn the forgiveness of aliens that I’d very much wanted dead.

A/N - 69! Taylor despairs over how his life was wasted and he’s detached from Earth, and quickly turns his anger on Cala—who makes him see red by mentioning her role in the extermination fleet. The Krakotl tries to explain how she understands him, and also fills him in on events at Aafa and Tellus; she believes that he has an opportunity to act in a diplomatic capacity, to ensure peace between the KC and SC. What do you think about the guilt Cala still carries with her, and how much common ground she might have with Taylor? Do you think Taylor will be able to smooth things over with aggrieved parties, given his flaws and temperament? Will the Tellus colonists want to maintain their claim to the Sivkits’ homeworld?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting!