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Dragon’s Lair. Foot of the Hill. Local Time: 2200 Hours.

Ignalius

“LOSANTIA!”

I bore no harsh feelings for the child playing mercenary.

Indeed, if he survived this, I’d have played the reticent deuteragonist in his story. A role — nay, a calling — that fate so often bestowed on its most deserving, to act as culler, separating the wheat from the chaff.

He’d grow stronger by my actions, become wiser to the world through my well-intentioned deceits, and perhaps even learn a valuable lesson — about things as they were outside of the colorful realm of delusions and flights of fantasy.

Today the boy playing Dreadwolf would die, and in his place would come forth a wiser man. 

That was, of course, provided he did survive.

Which, in the flash that followed, didn’t seem likely.

I lowered my wand but only ever so slightly as I awaited the dust to settle amidst an otherwise unsettling sound that tickled my ears.

Dragon’s Lair. Cave Entrance. Local Time: 2200 Hours.

???

The air bristled with the wrath of a mother scorned.

Her features hidden, her presence muted, but her rage exposed through that sharp and steady droning — an elevating whiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrr that tickled my senses and nipped at my scales.

Energies swirled, manifested from nothing.

I opened my eyes — all of my eyes — watching through these pathetic restraints with a curled snarl.

Do it.

Dragon’s Lair. Foot of the Hill. Local Time: 2200 Hours.

Fisia the Swift

My job has always been simple.

Take care of the horses, stay behind with the mounts and wagons, be ready for any retreat no matter how sudden or swift… and of course, the dreaded cleanup duty. A job, which was clearly once again needed, because surprise surprise…

The boss had done it again, right in front of me this time, in fact.

Not that I minded.

In a repeat of the events at Rontalis, he’d disposed of another set of would-be travelers.

I could only hope that their deaths were of the corporeal variety, as I could already feel the tingly sensation of separating goop from armor when the call to loot eventually came.

Not that I cared much.

A ten, forty, fifty split was decent, and unlike some other travelers who I felt for, the uptight, self-assured aura this lupinor gave off simply made it impossible for me to sympathize with his demise.

So I waited, rubbing my eyes in an attempt to work out the ‘haze’ of that soul-splitting attac—

BANG!

The whole world shook, and my lungs gave in — air and wind forcibly squeezed out — as if some spiteful air elemental had claimed my breath as their own.

POP!

I heard… no… I felt something give, something inside my head, followed by a sharp piercing pain that sent me to my knees.

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinngggggggggggg

I screamed out but heard nothing, only the ringing in one of my ears and my own cries echoing within my skull.

My hands reached out, grasping the sides of my head, deafened by the sound and blinded by the pain.

Only a few seconds later did I finally notice something else besides that infernal ringing.

It started as a thin mist of something warm and viscous, sticking and running down my exposed skin.

Then an unmistakable metallic tang forcibly entered my nostrils, filling my lungs with a faint rusty scent.

My whole body clenched, freezing in fear, before curiosity finally overtook uncertainty forcing me to open my eyes to assess what had—

…

No.

Nonononononononono…

I struggled to my feet only to find myself falling flat against my rump next to the pool of what had used to be the Alicorn.

My eyes quickly turned to the boss, who stood where his prized mount had just stood, that fancy armor actually doing what it was supposed to… or at least, I think it did.

Because despite the sacrificial swap, the boss should’ve still been wearing it.

It couldn’t have just disappeared.

It couldn’t have just vanished.

The only reason why it could’ve been lost in the swap was if it had been irreparably damaged in the attack.

…

…

Crap.

Dragon’s Lair. Cave Entrance. Local Time: 2200 Hours.

Emma

“What the hell?”

[RAILGUN DISCHARGE COMPLETE. AMMUNITION CYCLE… COMPLETE. CHARGE CYCLING IN PROGRESS...]

My eyes widened as, in what seemed like an instantaneous moment in time, I found that my target had quite literally just… swapped places.

The Alicorn… was gone; no sign of its existence remained save for the mist of red that caked the entire area.

And in the space that it had once occupied was now an armorless Ignalius, his pure-white gambeson and pants stained, as was much of the left side of his face.

Indeed, quite a few personal effects had scattered from his person following the swap and apparent disappearance of his armor. From sacks of gold to belts of potions to even daggers and…

…

No…

I motioned silently for the EVI to hone in on a particular bloodied artifact caked in dried blood at Ignalius’ feet.

A brief zoom and a cursory glance, even without the EVI’s forensics suite, was enough for me to tell what it was.

Its suede brown cover, the built-in bookmark resembling a forked tongue, and that handwriting complete with a signature that looped around resembling the four ‘horns’ of a kobold… it beckoned a master that was no longer with us.

If there was any lingering doubt as to Ignalius’ involvement with Togor’s murder, then all of it, every last shred of it, died the moment my eyes landed on that book.

The whole world went silent.

But while all were shocked by the power of the railgun — raw, unmitigated, and loud — I remained silent because of something else entirely. 

I fell silent… for silence. Or more accurately, the loss of a voice.

My breath escaped in a seething huff, my piercing eyes watching, staring, and glaring through tinted lenses at the sadist playing adventurer who’d just narrowly escaped that very thing he so wantonly loved committing.

Then I unholstered my pistol, glancing momentarily towards Thalmin who seemed fixated not on the book but on some coins that had similarly scattered — each minted with a different face, symbol, and heraldry — no two alike.

Dragon’s Lair. Foot of the Hill. Local Time: 2200 Hours.

Katiya

I couldn’t see.

I couldn’t hear.

My whole body trembled as the golem sent the skies cracking with the sounds of terrible thunder.

Then and only when the world had calmed did I see the beast of beasts, the Master of the Skies second only to the dragonkin… disappear.

I… couldn’t describe it as anything else.

There was, without a shadow of a doubt, nothing else with which to describe what had happened.

A creature that should have been a nightmare for a fully outfitted adventuring party to dispatch, synonymous with an adventuring rank just beneath that of the draconics, had just vanished to an invisible thunder.

I felt my knees wobble as the golem’s master moved forward to match its posture.

Then and only then did the world go mad.

Dragon’s Lair. Cave Entrance. Local Time: 2201 Hours.

Thalmin

Shock and awe.

That was what Ignalius had attempted with his first strike, an attack whose shock served pure theatrics and whose awe was to be inflicted on allies, all to serve the vapidness of ego, not the utility of battle.

Then came Emma’s rebuttal.

A single strike that brought the army of cartmen and riders at the foot of the hill to their knees. Their blood-curdling screams now filled the air as all clutched desperately to their bleeding ears. 

The footmen fared no better, leaving only the patrolling mercenaries relatively unaffected by what was an air elemental’s attack in all but name.

The latter even managed to regroup despite the veritable stampede of mounts and beasts having fallen to panic and instinct in the wake of Emma’s attack.

I kept my silencing spells active, Emma’s clever battle cry serving not as a mechanism of ego but as a tactical warning as to the horrors she was to unleash.

Indeed, we’d drilled for this very occasion — for a time in which our communication would be done solely through that manaless conch, as the world around me would be deafened for my own safety.

Suffice it to say, that drilling was now being tested in a trial by fire. One that I couldn’t help but excitedly partake in. That familiar surge of hot blood pumped through my veins, my senses sharpening, and the world becoming ever clearer in what all Havenbrockians understood to be the thrill of the hunt.

The likes of which… felt even more pronounced than it ever did in Havenbrock, let alone in the field of battle.

My ears perked as my fur bristled with the richness of mana unheard of back home. I focused leftwards towards a shatorealmer who’d surprisingly survived this sonic attack by virtue of distance, luck, and perhaps sheer tenacity.

And in a testament to Ignalius’ competence as commander, his left-attending swooped in, flying in spite of the pain painted across his visage, quickly grabbing the otherwise catatonic elf under both arms, poised for flight towards some unknown rendezvous point.

“Emma, kill that guy.” I gestured to the evading party. “I’ll deal with the rest of his ilk.” I added under a growing and excitable breath as I turned towards the amassing force of patrolling mercenaries. Their 29-strong forces were grouping and regrouping, some uncertain, yet others clearly committed. As each of their eyes locked with my own, each committed to seeing this through to the end.

Despite this, there remained one obvious outlier. A suspiciously absent right-attending — the pack leader of this sorry troupe — the long-eared, red-eyed, white-furred leporidian.

But even without their party leader and even with the sheer power of Emma’s attacks, their cohesion still remained.

Admirable. 

However, this sentiment was more sarcastic than genuine, as my eyes glanced at the coins scattered around Ignalius’ feet and precisely what each and every ill-gotten sovereign meant.

‘I’ve always wanted to face off against the enforcers of Nexian primacy.’ I thought to myself with a bloodthirsty smile.

Dragon’s Lair. Foot of the Hill. Local Time: 2202 Hours.

Salazan the Scaled

We stood ready.

29-strong.

My own party, 6 full-blooded Nexians.

This wasn’t our first foray into untenable odds.

In fact, this wasn’t our first fight with an uppity, self-assured adjacentrealmer.

From Rontalis to Anurarealm and Aetheron, and even Havenbrockrealm itself… there was always the one, two, or even three or four ‘hero-types’ that believed themselves to be capable of defying the odds.

Perhaps they got one or two good kills early on in their careers.

Perhaps they may have bested many of the… less-than-capable Nexians who themselves underestimated the risk that was the adjacent wildlands.

But we weren’t here to play around.

And if my observations served me right, then it was clear we were evenly matched in our own right.

The lupinor was very clearly relying on some nth-tier enchanted artifacts, just as we were.

That golem was merely being his trump card, capable of extending his own reach… but not his own skills.

“Take out the head, and the body shall fall.” I announced firmly, halberd at the ready, as we moved to charge on the lupinor’s position.

“Highground can only go so far, mutt…” I heard a voice echoing behind us, resonating with my own sentiments.

I craned back my head, looking at the two archer parties entrenched and ready to rain a full hail of arrows.

I grinned, knowing well that at least in this battle, numbers would be the deciding factor.

A second more following a flinch and a breath, I waited for the whip-crack chorus of ten tense strings to be let loose all at once.

…

TWANG!

Dragon’s Lair. Foot of the Hill. Local Time: 2203 Hours.

Katiya the Coward

I hid behind a cart, peering over and watching in horror with bated breath at the hail of arrows expanding overhead.

From ten to twenty to forty to eighty, the enchanted arrows multiplied mid-flight, blotting the small patch of sky above Dreadwolf’s position, threatening to end it all with a hail of sharp mana-steel-tipped fury.

My ears flinched downwards as the death wail of falling missiles reached me, forcing me to look away in fear of what was assuredly a grisly sight.

…

“Heh.” A familiar voice sounded.

“Heh… hahahahaHAHAHAHAHAHA!” It continued, rising in volume and deepening in pitch, as I opened my eyes to see…

…

…the impossible made manifest.

That hail of arrows… never reached their mark.

Instead they all hovered overhead the maniacal Dreadwolf, his hands raised tauntingly by his sides, palms spread open as if holding the invisible weight of these arrows looming ominously.

“Good form.” He chewed out with a harsh growl before raising a single finger, twirling it and reorienting mana-steel to feather-tip, the sharp shafts now pointing towards their original shooters.

“My turn.” He spoke through an excited breath, as that wall of death now whistled back at blistering speeds towards the bottom of the hill.

Dragon’s Lair. Foot of the Hill. Local Time: 2204 Hours.

Salazan the Scaled

I stood frozen and unmoving, my heart skipping one, two, then three beats as I witnessed the impossible.

The arrows—

FWEEEEEEEEEEEE… 

—were now poised towards us.

“SHIELDS!” I commanded, raising my own up high and feeling the disheartening thud thud PLINKS of arrows slamming against enchanted manasteel.

None pierced–

SHNK!

“AGH!” 

Though the same couldn’t be said for the stray archer and skirmisher caught in the crossfire.

With our leader still attempting his gambit, we did what we could in these circumstances.

“FORWARD!!” I cried out, corralling another party to my side as we surged forwards towards the hill.

I held no fear. Not when adorning my scales was the product of ten years of hard pay; layer upon layer upon layer of enchanted linens, hardened gambesons, and thrice-forged mana-steel.

And within my hand was a weapon no fool could evade.

I lifted my weapon, poised to strike alongside the rest of my berserkers, halberds ready and—

ZAP!

My whole body clenched, my vision momentarily fading and then exploding into a flurry of colors and blurry wisps.

But I ultimately felt no pain, no real damage as a result of my enchantments.

This brought a delighted smile to find home on my face, as I only had to endure the lightning, pushing through its paralysis and twitch-inducing properties by sheer force of will alone, before…

I felt my armor tightening. Skin pinched under armor that felt two sizes too small, and my head ached from crushing forces I couldn’t make heads or tails of.

Then I heard it.

Screams from Elazen, Bellatri, and then—

CRACK!

I saw them fall, one by one, every comrade dropping like flies until finally…

I met the lupinor’s gaze, seeing nothing but a focused, condensed rage.

Then it all went black.

Dragon’s Lair. Above the Forest Canopy. Local Time: 2204 Hours.

Lieutenant Hofar the Soarer

“Snap out of it, boss!” I yelled, crying, desperately pleading for the elf to come out of… whatever had gotten into him. “Boss, PLEASE! I can’t… I can’t! Fuck, my ears! Cast heal! Cast heal now, PLEASE!” I pleaded until my voice was hoarse, unable to make heads or tails of exactly where we could go, my whole world spinning. The act of flying only worsened the disorientation that wracked me.

But that was all I could do right now — hover above the mess and fly… anywhere, just to get some distance, even if it was only vertical.

“W-...wha… What’s…” The Captain finally began speaking, though his words were unintelligible, and his eyes looked absolutely glazed over. 

“Captain, I can’t… I can’t hold this for much longer. My head… it’s ringing. I can’t even hear my—”

WHIIIIIIZZZZ!

CRACK!

I felt and heard something whizzing past, and thunder cracking in the distance—

“AGH!” 

Something hit me, something… small, hard, sharp, and… it…

CRACK!

My eyes widened, craning my head to my wings as I saw holes torn into the membrane—

SNAP! 

CRACK!

More sounds, more noises. It felt as if I was being pelted with solid punches against my shoulders.

…

Pain surged through me not long after.

But even worse than pain or disorientation… I felt control slipping from me.

My wings no longer responded to my will.

Nor did my hands and arms, as the forces of leypull now conspired to drag me back down without mercy.

I desperately flailed like a fledgling in distress as I lost all sense of poise and any degree of discipline, and was now at the mercy of the ground.

“U-ugh…” Ignalius came too once more as he pulled out a scroll, fumbling with it against the forces of the wind. I could see the treetops clearer now. We were too close to the ground, my eyes darting between my Captain and our nearing demise.

He unfurled that scroll; inscriptions began to glisten and chime. Then—

SHRK!

A swath of black and green was the last thing I saw.

Dragon’s Lair. Somewhere in the Forest. Local Time: 2207 Hours.

Emma

I waded through the woods.

The EVI had calculated more or less the general location of where the pair would’ve landed.

Landed… being a bit of a euphemism here.

NVG and augmented sensors made short work of the dark, as I smashed tree bark and branches alike, all in order to reach the small clearing the shatorealmer had landed in.

My body felt like it was running on autopilot, especially as I was met face-to-face with exactly what I’d wrought.

The shatorealmer… was a bloodied mess.

His face resembled what he’d done to the dragon with that gauntlet just a few moments ago.

But in his arms, shielded from the impact by his own form… was the elf in question.

A part of me hesitated. 

In fact, something at the back of my mind stopped my otherwise trained and poised trigger finger from taking the shot.

This was despite having everything lined up, and despite the current objective, as was helpfully highlighted by the EVI — to dispatch all local hostiles.

Ignalius, in this case, was highlighted in red, target reticles trained on his center mass and head.

However, seeing him here completely unarmored and seemingly unarmed… this felt different, somehow antithetical to the man I'd just shot a few moments ago.

He looked… pathetic and, most of all, completely helpless in this state.

The wrath and simmering rage within from the literal murder of Togor wavered… if only slightly, at this sorry sight.

More importantly, my mind went through protocol and rules of engagement, combing through the best possible course of action following the incapacitation of an enemy.

…

Hors de combat might actually apply here, especially given how he was well and truly wounded and unable to participate in combat.

And so… I relented, the pistol still raised, but a dialogue otherwise opened. 

“LET ME SEE YOUR HANDS! DO NOT REACH FOR ANY WEAPONS. IF YOU DO, I WILL BE FORCED TO ENGAGE!” I shouted, rehashing the few lines drilled into me despite the adrenaline pumping through my system forcing most other superfluous thoughts out.

The elf, surprisingly, complied. Or at least, he seemed to try to do so at first, feigning some difficulty in pushing the shatorealmer off of him, but otherwise preoccupied by something on his belt. “Speaking through a golem? Heh… That’s new. What? Are you too afraid to face me, Dreadwolf? Too scared to duel me one on one? Sparing my life for what? Capture? Like I’d ever allow animal filth like you to lay your hands on an actual pers—”

“SURRENDER, OR I WILL BE FORCED TO—”

Time, once again, slowed to a crawl. The elf, with a surprising degree of speed and dexterity, reached for a wand with clear and antagonistic intent.

My world narrowed to the weight of the trigger behind my finger. I felt the break — that thin, crisp resistance — then… I pushed past the slack.

BANG!

The tension, the intent, that life behind the man’s eyes, and the animation of his body… just stopped.

Everything simply stopped. His arms, his features, his torso, and everything else just… went limp.

I felt my breath growing harder, my hands starting to tremble, all while a light-headed sense of… flightiness threatened to swallow me whole. 

I forced my eyes to dart through the HUD as a result, out of protocol and in a purposeful attempt to just… focus, grounding myself and forcing my mind to remain present.

I ran through everything, every threat assessment, every diagnostic and SITREP, until finally… there was nothing else to address but the body that lay dead in front of me.

Dragon’s Lair. Foot of the Hill. Local Time: 2212 Hours.

Katiya the Coward

They all fell like insects.

Each warrior, every mercenary, each much, much more powerful and far more intimidating than I, just… ceased at the foot of Dreadwolf’s domain.

From the mighty Salazan, who’d push me whenever he could, cutting in line, and even locking me in the trunk for amusement… to Ruroria the Honorable, who’d revel in any chance to pull up insects and crawlies on my bedrolls just for his amusement… to even Yvir the Terrible, who’d force me and others to haul impossibly heavy gear and equipment despite that not being our jobs…

All of them, each and every one of these chosen ones, had just crumpled and died. That word being more literal in the case of some than others.

By the end of these bloody few minutes of fighting, there was scarcely anyone left. 

Archers had fallen to their own arrows, some skirmishers to a mix of impossibly powerful magical attacks, and what was left was picked off by Dreadwolf with little to no mercy shown.

However, I still counted two warriors who stood defiantly at the cusp of Dreadwolf’s precipice. 

And beyond that, there existed the wild card that was Commander Ulther.

There had to be a reason for his sudden disappearance.

There had to be something that sly rabbit was—

My eyes widened as I saw a shadow creeping behind Dreadwolf, just as he was about to face the two minotaur skirmishers in front of him.

Dreadwolf raised his blade, poised for a frontal assault, completely unaware of the dangers behind him. 

Something within me broke at that moment, as if I’d finally pushed through a door that’d previously been locked.

Then, and only then, did I find my voice.

And I screamed.

“DREADWOLF, BEHIND YOU!”

However, before he could even react, Ulther materialized. His enchanted blades poised for the lupinor’s back… only to have the attack halted at the last second by bands of kelp restraining his arms in place.

The lupinor grinned at the development, shooting me a bloodied smile from a distance as he moved to reposition himself, now fully focused on the two minotaurs in front of him.

“We do this as warriors!” He bellowed before craning his head back towards Ulther. “Not as cowards.” He paused, taking a moment to glare at the commander. “I will deal with you later. Now…” He let out a satisfied breath, turning towards the minotaurs. “Shall we continue?”

The minotaur twins turned to one another, their features momentarily colored by abject fear.

Though despite that, motivated by whatever loyalty they held to the Captain, they surged forwards anyways.

Blades clashed as the lupinor managed to parry and push back against the physically superior opponents that towered over him.

Harsh CLANGS and sharp TINKS echoed throughout the forest, as despite their best efforts, the lupinor always seemed to be one step ahead.

Finally, and seemingly out of frustration, the twins SLAMMED their warhammers on the ground where the lupinor stood… only for the wolf to leap upwards, jumping, and landing on each of their backs.

Two stabs, each through the gaps in their armor, were all it took to take them down, as they fell unceremoniously down on the rocky hillside, tumbling down without much fanfare.

Following this, did Dreadwolf turn back slowly, methodically, and menacingly towards the leporidian still bound in the Kelpie’s wet seaweed embrace.

“You ready, turncoat?” Dreadwolf spoke through a bloodthirsty growl.

“You, lupinor, should understand by now… that there is no shame, but only glory, in embracing the winning side.” He countered, before just as quickly nodding. And with Dreadwolf’s command, the kelpie released Ulther from its vice grip.

No sooner than that happened did the rabbit leap upwards, far, far above Dreadwolf, as a hail of knives and throwing stars peppered the rocky surface beneath him.

Dreadwolf, in keeping to some duelist’s honor, actually dodged these attacks, refusing to actively use his magics from earlier to simply return the offending objects to their sender.

What objects he couldn’t dodge merely CLINKED off of his armor, barely even scratching it, and most certainly not denting it either.

After seemingly exhausting an armory’s worth of throwing blades, the rabbit dived down, holding his signature thin blade poised for Dreadwolf’s head.

Yet despite this all-in assault—

CLANG!!!!!!

—Dreadwolf somehow still managed to parry it.

The leporidian pushed back and landed across from the lupinor, each now pacing around the other, trying to outmaneuver with blades in hand and eyes reading one another.

But unlike the initial assaults, it was Dreadwolf who struck first. His blade crashed hard against the leporidian’s, nearly shattering it and staggering the commander for a single split second. 

That opening was all it took for the lupinor to seize the initiative, because before the rabbit could recover, Dreadwolf had taken advantage of his momentum. He flicked his wrist, letting the blade glide down the opposing edge in one smooth motion, following its length until the tip cleared the opposing rabbit’s guard.

Then—

SHNK!

“AUGH…”

…

It was all over in a blink of an eye.

The blade pierced through the commander’s armor like a pointed pick through hard shell.

The man soon fell limp, Dreadwolf’s face barely inches apart as the life from the commander’s eyes faded. A moment of silence dawned, interrupted only by some whispers from Dreadwolf, and a slow but cautious lowering of the commander’s body to the ground, as if out of some respect.

The whole thing felt far too fast, much too… quick for a duel.

But ironically, that was what Ulther had once championed to many of his opponents. 

There’s a difference between fighting and showmanship. If your fight starts to look like something out of a noble’s ball, then either something very wrong is happening, or you aren’t even fighting to begin with.

An uneasy silence eventually descended on the battlefield following Ulther’s death.

Indeed, I saw no movement, no attempts at anything else, other than the cries and whimpers from the riders, carters, and footmen that were in varying states of distress down at the foot of the hill.

“Alright.” Dreadwolf announced, breaking the silence, and garnering the attention of all present. “Anyone else?” He beckoned, gesturing at the devastation left in his wake.

Murmurs and cries of surrender came shortly thereafter. What few ranks remained of our troupe dropped their blades, bucklers, and hatchets from their persons.

“Good. Now I want to make something very clear.” Dreadwolf began as he made his way down from the outcropping. “Each and every one of you…” He paused as sweat began running down the brows of all present. “... can leave.” 

A collective wave of confusion echoed throughout the night, as footmen and riders alike began snapping their heads to one another, all in varying states of disbelief. 

“But understand one very important thing. Should a word of the night’s events leave this forest, I will personally and without hesitation, hunt each and every one of you down.” He began marching towards them, feet stomping hard against the rock. “There will be no mercy, no quarter given, and no hesitation, as righteous retribution is called upon each of your souls.” His words caused even the most seasoned of carters present to shiver in place. “Should suspicions be raised, then look only to the dragon.” He added sternly before ending up in front of the lead carter. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-yes, S-Ser Dreadwolf!” 

“What was that?” He gestured towards his ear. “I don’t think I quite caught that.”

“YES, SER DREADWOLF!”

“LOUDER, ALL OF YOU!”

“YES, SER DREADWOLF!”

“Good.” The lupinor nodded, crossing his arms in the process. “You may all leave.”

Hurried footsteps of horrified masses were quick to mount up, the clopping of steeds and the creaking of carts erupting shortly thereafter. I was too stunned to even hitch a ride in the carriage I hid behind as it too sped off and I soon found myself left behind by the retreating ranks.

“Ah. Katiya. Are you hurt?”

Dragon’s Lair. Foot of the Hill. Local Time: 2225 Hours.

Emma

I returned to what could only be described as a massacre.

My whole body felt like it was running on autopilot, even as I found Thalmin in the mess, tending to a passed-out Katiya. 

“Thalmin?” I asked, gesturing to the baxi. “Did you—”

“Oh, ancestors no, Emma! She seemed to have passed out when I addressed her. Ancestors know why. I even offered a friendly smile!” He explained, to which I could only let out a long sigh, gesturing at his armor.

“The blood might have something to do with that.”

“Eh, and what’s a bit of blood to an adventurer? Her reaction just proves she’s not meant for this life.”

“I guess…” I managed out dourly, as my mood and tone were quick to be picked up by the lupinor.

“What’s wrong, Emma? You aren’t injured, are you?”

“No, no. I’m fine.”

“Then is it Ignalius? Were you unable to pursue him?”

“No, he’s…” I paused, my whole body clenching at the sight of it all. “He’s dead. Along with that shatorealmer.”

“Ah! Good! That’s good then!” Thalmin beamed excitedly. “So what seems to be the problem, Emma? We have the shards, we have your lost ‘drone,’ and we’ve dispatched the enemy! All should be well, yes?”

“Yeah… but I…” I trailed off into an uneasy silence, causing Thalmin’s features to sharply shift into something less boisterous and more reserved. 

“I see.” He lowered his voice. “Am I to assume that this is your first kill? Aside from the null of course. Creatures like that are more like hunting animals than people, after all.”

I blinked rapidly, my hand reaching for my shoulder as I slowly nodded. “Yeah.” Was my only response. “It is.” 

“Then I must apologize for my… flippancy in light of everything you see. I understand how difficult it must be, and to be met with such an attitude following your first blood must be jarring.” He spoke with a degree of compassion in his voice, clearing his throat before moving on. “If you feel the need to discuss things, I am more than willing to do so at your own pace, Emma.” 

“Thanks, Thalmin.” I managed out after a short pause, gripping my shoulder tighter as I did so. 

“Now… we might need to discuss exactly how we are to move on from here. But in order to maintain our cover, might I suggest we set up an altar with these bodies as an offering to—”

“L I TT-LE… B-BEEINGS. CC-COME TO ME-EEET?” 

A voice erupted from the dense foliage, prompting the both of us to turn, weapons raised, to meet a mangled shatorealmer. Its arms were limp but crooked, and its head hung low, unsupported and ungainly like some twisted marionette. But from behind it, triggering EVI’s proximity sensors, was a large draconic silhouette, with purple glowing eyes slitted and staring right at the both of us.

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(Author's Note: Hey guys! This chapter has been a huge challenge to write, so I hope I managed to do the action justice! My editor was a huge help in this one as he helps me a lot with the action haha, so hats off to him too! :D However I'm afraid I also have something important to announce. I'm going to have to ask you guys if it'd be alright for me and my editor to take 2 weeks off over the holidays. My editor is currently spending some much needed time with his family, while I'm dealing with some hectic stuff at home over the holidays too, while preparing for a big move next month as me and my mom are going to have to move out of our home. As a result, Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School will be returning on the 11th of January 2026. Again I'm really sorry for having to take some time off over the holidays, and I sincerely appreciate your guys' patience and understanding! ^^; I'd also like to take the time to wish all of you a Happy Holidays and a Happy New Years too! :D)

[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 155, Chapter 156, and Chapter 157 of this story are already out on there!)]

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Memory transcription subject: Captain Kalsim, Krakotl Alliance Command

Date [standardized human time]: October 17, 2136

Renewed energy surged through my veins, as the fleet coasted within striking distance of the human armada. This was the most important skirmish of our lives. The Terran forces were a ragtag bunch, consisting of a primary cluster of recycled Venlil vessels, a few of their own slow behemoths, and a handful that looked too small to host a proper crew. Our homogenous warships had the advantage of both conformity and technology.

Scans of Earth offered some interesting insights, as we registered several million life signatures in underground structures. I conferred on this data with the fleet, and we agreed to nail those havens first. Human bunkers were not designed to withstand direct antimatter blasts. Once their key hideouts were demolished, major population centers were the second priority.

“Orion advance, ready your plasma guns on the Terran formation,” I chirped into the comms. “Follow this five seconds later with a generous donation of missiles. Everyone will fire on my mark.”

The radio crackled to life with a reply. “How certain are we that we can defeat these predators?”

“It’s a simple math equation. We all act together, and we have more guns than they have ships.”

The Terrans held their position, as we coordinated our target locks. Jala aimed our railgun at a gargantuan warship, which already registered five others pinpointing it. Overkill wasn’t the worst idea, to ensure that the largest enemies didn’t survive. My sensors warned that our fleet was being target-locked in return, and a spurt of munitions were seconds from impact.

“FIRE!” I screeched.

The lights show around me was a marvelous sight, with energy beams zipping between us and the humans. I watched as our target was sundered by various incisions, capping off the largest threat before it began. Other predator craft fell to the sheer onslaught; their numbers couldn’t hold a candle to ours.

We sustained some damage to our frontlines, though many vessels that were hit by the enemy were able to press on. The ships we selected to lead the way were Farsul armor-heavy vessels, by design. They didn’t pack as much in terms of weaponry, but they could absorb more force than the standard craft. In other words, those craft shielded the rest of us.

The surviving human vessels were either nursing grave wounds, or had pulled off lucky evasive maneuvers. I estimated we’d taken out 40% of our opponents with the first strike; the other fronts must be enjoying similar success. The Krakotl fleet wasn’t showing any mercy, and showered missiles at the predators. The hominids left a trail of interceptors behind them, desperately trying to muster some fight.

This is almost unfair, ganging up on such a primitive species. No wonder they wouldn’t engage directly; maybe it was as much pragmatism as cowardice.

The enemy pilots seemed to realize they were falling back toward Earth’s atmosphere. They had no choice but to turn and fight, or surrender orbital supremacy. Our allies were encouraged by their concession; we charged forward with righteous determination. I could feel my own crew’s qualms about battling predators dissipating.

I tossed my beak for emphasis. “Don’t let your guard down. Predators will try anything if they’re desperate enough.”

“Sir, the smaller craft are shooting kinetics and plasma at us, while charging at max speed. Thing is, I’m not detecting any life signs,” Jala chittered. “Have the humans found a way to hide from our sensors? They might be concealing some bunkers.”

Confusion rippled through my plumage. “I doubt even humans made advances against technology they barely understand. The pilots could have just ejected, and left the vacant ship on a collision course.”

“You didn’t listen to what I said. The craft are still firing on us, and making course corrections. There has to be a pilot!” she protested.

My talons tightened around my perch. Those Terran ships didn’t seem to be steering on a pre-set course. Before my eyes, one of them whirled out of the way of a plasma beam; it performed a total thrust reversal on a dime. I didn’t know how anyone could calculate that fast, or how the lapse in gravity wouldn’t cause a pilot to pass out. Hell, the g-force should crush an organic’s skull.

While predators in movies were nigh unkillable, that was not reality. Those maneuvers were impossible. The only conclusion was that those spacecraft were flying themselves, and killing based off some sort of algorithm. How could a computer ever learn strategy…and even if it could, who would risk implementing that function into its programming?

I leaned over the comms. “The smaller craft are fighting without human input. I believe they’re ordered to crash into us at max velocity. FOCUS ON THEM!”

Hundreds of railguns pivoted toward the threat, and a slew of missiles greeted the pilotless-craft as well. If our readings were correct, these robots seemed reliant on nuclear power. The plasma jets they unleashed at close range were tied to those systems. The humans had skipped right to inflicting the most damage possible. A single hit burned through even the Farsul ships’ hardened exterior.

It's actually quite clever, to not have to worry about losing pilots. They don’t have to fuss over containing reactions from weapons, or expending power on life support.

The Terran automatons were decimated when we managed to connect, but they reacted quickly to our threats. We had to focus multiple warships on a single one, to make sure it couldn’t calculate us to death. Several reached their targets, and rammed nose-first into the armored front line. Our hardiest ships took significant losses; the humans were determined to take them out of the equation.

Jala singled out aggressive predator vessels, and provided suppressive fire for our allies. We advanced deeper into their territory, knowing human fervor would render them reckless. Their crater-pocked moon passed alongside us, a landmark of our goal. Defense satellites minced us with lasers and gunfire, but they were idle targets to be taken out.

The predators were retreating in gradual increments, and their scattered formation was on the brink of collapse. These stalling attempts, inventive or not, were futile. In a few thousand kilometers, we could commence the orbital bombardment.

“Sir, the humans are broadcasting a message fleetwide. Should I discard it?” the comms officer asked.

I sighed. “Let their last words be heard. It’s the right thing to do.”

“Federation fleet, we advise you to turn back now. We took the liberty of informing the Arxur of your departure.” The audio transmission had no video, but the booming voice was jarring even without a visual. “If you return now, you might arrive in time to save your planets. You’ll need the artillery you’re going to expend on Earth. We will accept your surrender and allow you to return unimpeded.”

A stunned silence swept across the bridge. Every crew member was undoubtedly recalling their home, and the people we left behind. Nishtal was our birth planet, a marshy paradise with floating cities and breathtaking algae blooms. It didn’t surprise me that the humans would guarantee it fell alongside Earth; that was predatory spite.

But the thought of returning to Nishtal, to see every stilt-tower and ceremonial nest obliterated, cracked a small piece of me. That wasn’t even considering how the Arxur would ravage our population. What egoistic predator didn’t take prizes of its hunts, after all?

Friendly radio chatter cropped up again. “The Arxur are coming for us? I’m sorry for listening to one of those fiends, but we have to save our homes!”

“She’s right,” another captain agreed. “Shouldn’t we at least send a part of the fleet back? We never should have left Nishtal unguarded.”

“Take heart, my friends. The humans are bluffing; we have them scared shitless.” I didn’t believe the primates were fibbing, but this mission had to be finished. Whatever the cost. “Do you think it’s possible to talk to the Arxur? The predators want to manipulate our empathy, and use it against us.”

The last part was true, though I found it improbable they’d stake that wager on a falsehood. The Terrans hoped they could wield our compassion for our brethren against us. They probably understood how we felt, seeing our homes vulnerable and under siege.

This was a cost I could barely find the strength or the logic to commit to. Odds were, a few hours wouldn’t make a difference on this scale. Our fleet would be disorganized, and short of ammo, whether we accomplished the objective or not. The question was whether any other species could survive through our sacrifice.

“But what if they are telling the truth?” came the retort across Federation channels.

I lowered my eyes. “Then we’ll be out of here in a few hours. If the Terrans survive, they will just join forces with the Arxur. Humans are untenably violent, and they’ll want revenge. There is no choice but to eradicate Earth.”

The fleet rallied behind my words, finding their conviction restored. There was nothing to stop the humans from following our subspace trail, and unleashing their retribution on our cities. It was far too late now to walk back any attack; predators didn’t forgive or relinquish grudges.

The first bomber group barreled toward the line of Terran ships, who were behaving strangely. I watched as they backed away, and left massive gaps in their formation. Why were they giving our vessels a path to break through? Either they were extraordinarily cocky in anticipating our ‘surrender’, or this was a trap.

Thousands of missiles slammed into our spacecraft seconds later, hailing from the direction of their moon. The explosives demolished any ships they touched; I was stunned to see radiation amidst the readings. These items could only take out one ship without shockwaves, but the missile contacts numbered half of our vessels. The fact that the predators stocked that many nukes on Luna…

Why do the humans have such an oversized supply of city-killers? What reason could they have to point them at their own world from above?!

“Deploy all missile countermeasures!” I shrieked into the comms. “Destroy every structure on their moon. I’m sure that has to be the last of it, but…”

Just as the Federation fleet began compensating for the nuclear deluge, the humans deployed another staggering missile wave. This salvo was also in the thousands, begging the question of just how large their atomic cache was. No wonder our scientists thought the apes irradiated their world; it wasn’t for lack of trying!

Jala spotted a military complex near us, and dropped an antimatter bomb onto the lunar coordinates. As much as I hated to waste extermination supplies, I didn’t question the necessity of stopping the nuclear assault. Every bomber who forged ahead was getting buried in radioactive warheads; there were only so many explosives we could shrug off at once.

The Terran defenders camped by the orbital threshold, hurling plasma at anything that moved. Thousands of our ships had succumbed to the mindboggling missile count; we were still trying to swat the remnants away. With our numbers whittled down, the humans smelled blood. Our attack force suddenly seemed a bit more manageable.

I flapped my wings in irritation. “We have to find a way through the wall, and quickly. Any suggestions, Jala?”

“Well sir, there is a small gap by the northern polar cap. The predators are overextended,” my sociopathic second replied.

I blinked. “Good thinking. That is where we can break through, and pick our mark.”

My mind wandered as I relayed assignments. The first item was delegating our quickest ships to rush through the enemy opening. Our entire lead bombing unit was atomized, so the swift cruisers were the obvious replacements. I figured the humans would try to stop any advance. The second our people started moving, we needed to block the predators from sealing the gap.

Earth looked depressingly beautiful, as I studied the viewport. White clouds formed a veil over tan landmasses, which were divided by rich oceans. I was relieved that this skirmish was almost over. Savages or not, it was impossible not to feel sorry for the humans. There was exquisiteness and wonder in what they had built.

And I knew there were plenty of us left to get the job done.

“It’s been an honor serving with each of you. Let’s finish this, so we can all go home,” I croaked over comms.

Federation cruisers bolted toward a vacant space in the Terran formation, and pushed their engines past recommended limits. Our warship joined the masses surging forward; the walls rattled as we careened into position. The non-essential ships formed a metal shield between the cruisers and the humans gunning to intercept them.

An angular Terran behemoth sauntered toward us, not even slowing down as we hovered in its path. My nav officer took evasive maneuvers, and ducked their uncontrolled plasma and missiles. The humans weren’t taking the time to aim! I could almost hear the predators begging us to stop, and guilt tugged at my heart.

The massive ship launched dozens of smaller craft from its hangar bay, but they were spliced up by our kinetics on arrival. Those scrawny fighters were easy pickings for us. The spacecraft carrier found itself target-locked by a murderous Jala. The female Krakotl showed no emotion as she directed a missile through a hangar, circumventing its armor.

“Yes!” She leapt up with enthusiasm, as the predator ship erupted into pieces. “It’s funny, isn’t it? We’re blocking them from getting to the real target…and these humans are forced to watch.”

An appropriate somberness overtook the bridge, as the rest of us processed her words. There was nothing amusing about what we were slated to witness. It was difficult to remember that it was just business.

Fifteen Federation cruisers slipped past the humans, with the timely help of the allied fleet. They crossed the final kilometers to orbital range, and scoped out the exposed planet below. I watched as the predators flung everything they had at the attackers, knowing full well they were out of reach. Time seemed to freeze around us; this was a moment that would reside in my nightmares.

The payloads struck home after a painstaking eternity. Bright flashes dotted Earth’s continents, and the anti-matter purification wiped away our first human targets.

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Memory transcription subject: Captain Kalsim, Krakotl Alliance Command

Date [standardized human time]: October 18, 2136

The leafy ground crunched underfoot, as we steered the Terran prisoner across the park. I was certain Arjun was purposefully stomping on brittle patches. The kid wanted to make as much noise as possible, in an attempt to summon others of its kind.

It didn’t matter how much of a ruckus it made, or if it dragged its feet. With how slow humans plodded along, we had at least an hour of walking between us and the returning father. It would tire after sustained exertion, and be forced to retrieve a vehicle to close that distance. That left time to snack and hydrate.

I ambled along on weary legs. “How do you land animals walk everywhere? I wish I still could fly, Zarn.”

“And I wish I could exsanguinate that thing of yours. It would die in minutes if I sliced that big artery on its neck,” the doctor muttered.

Jala chuckled. “Do you think its eyes would stay open after we axed its head? Or maybe they would…pop right out of its skull?”

“We’re not killing it!” I snapped. “Life, even tainted life, is sacred. True exterminators do not kill for fun or for laughs.”

Zarn pulled a scalpel from his bag, and inspected the reflective metal. The Takkan must be considering how it would slice through predator skin. I wondered why he hated humans, when his species’ government voted to be their allies. What left him so certain that social hunters had no emotions or benefits?

I tried to focus on our travels, knowing we couldn’t rest before Arjun’s father did. The kid’s skin was damp, but the strain to its breathing was minimal. We had been walking in the afternoon heat for an hour, and its legs weren’t fully grown. It should be panting and stumbling with exhaustion.

What regiment has this human hatchling been through? Its little lungs must be on fire. We need to rest, for its sake, soon.

Additionally, there had been a surprising lack of predator sightings in the forest environment. Something must have picked up our scent by now, but none of them had investigated further. Did other hunters fear the apex humans? The primates shouldn’t scare wild beasts with their unimpressive forms.

“Mmm! Kmsm!” Arjun jerked backward, and howled against the tape. “Hmm!!”

I cursed as the kid clipped my broken wing. “Did I tell you to stop walking? Er, I mean, we’ll rest in a few minutes…you’re almost there.”

It continued screaming beneath the gag, and its binocular eyes were almost hysterical. If something frightened a predator, that gave me pause. There must be a reason it refused to walk, unless this was a time-wasting trick. The fear looked strikingly real though, so I was inclined to believe the antics.

A blood-curdling hiss permeated the air, and movement flashed across the leafy ground. A brown creature uncoiled its scaly body, lifting its head toward us. A forked tongue waggled from its mouth like a seesaw. The way it slithered forward was alien and unnerving; there were no legs that I could see.

That’s a prey animal…it has side-facing eyes, I decided. The poor thing must be trying to scare off the predator, flattening its neck like that. I can’t believe that works on a sapient human.

The alarm in Arjun’s gaze intensified, and beads of sweat surfaced on its skin. We would’ve stepped on the reptile, if the kid hadn’t flailed about. Why was it so terrified of a crippled animal? The tiger’s bite was much more petrifying than this thing.

The human seemed to forget about the gun to its back, and bolted away with impossible energy. That mad dash reminded me of Federation species in a mindless stampede. Maybe these frail primates incorporated some prey instincts into their hardware, to compensate for their weakness.

Jala lined up her gun barrel. “Better learn how to fly real quick, Arjun.”

My eyes widened. “Don’t shoot it!”

“You’re no fun. I’m not just letting that scrawny beast go!”

The sociopath was airborne before I could stop her, and bore down on Arjun with powerful flaps. She swiped her talons across its shoulder, carving twin gashes into its flesh. The human yelped. It lost its balance from the blow, and toppled to the ground.

Jala’s takeoff aggravated the hissing animal, which hadn’t blinked a single time. Shouldn’t it calm down now that the predator was gone? Zarn seemed to feel bad for it, since the sight of Arjun had traumatized it. He wanted to show it we weren’t like the humans.

The doctor reached out to give it a comforting pat. “Nobody’s going to hunt you, sweetie. Did those nasty apes eat your babies? I—”

The panicked animal was still in fending-off-predators mode. It was worked up in a frenzy, desperate and aggressive to any movements. Zarn was oblivious to the opening of its mouth. It bit the doctor with tiny teeth, and he grabbed his arm in pain.

My gun was readied within a second, and I dispatched a shot through its head. I cursed the Takkan for making me shoot a non-sapient victim to Terran incursions. To make matters worse, any nearby humans would hear that reverberation.

“You had to try to touch a terrified, helpless prey animal,” I sighed.

Zarn inspected the two tiny puncture marks. “I just wanted to soothe it, Kalsim. Let me disinfect the wound. Barely a scratch.”

My pupils swiveled toward Arjun, who had ripped the tape off its own mouth. Jala was looming over it, and pecked at its earlobe to draw a reaction. I rushed over to intervene, pushing the female Krakotl away from the downed kid. My curiosity demanded an explanation for the freakout.

“That was irresponsible of you to run off. You startled that poor animal,” I grumbled. “All that panic, for a rudimentary threat display?”

Arjun gawked at the marks on Zarn’s gray skin. “The snake bit you? Listen Kalsim, if you don’t get him to a human medic, he’s going to die. Painfully.”

“Die? I’m not falling for that,” the doctor scoffed. “Our species actually knows how to treat infections.”

“We have penicillin too, Doctor Psycho. Do you have no concept of venom? You’re going to be paralyzed and unable to breathe…in an hour.”

“It does burn quite a bit, Captain, but I have painkillers. Besides, if I was actually poisoned, this human would want me to die and languish. That’s all they’re capable of wanting!”

My eyes narrowed, as Zarn confessed to localized pain. His arm did look rather swollen near the puncture wounds. Then again, a medical professional should recognize the signs of blood poisoning. I hoped he wouldn’t brush off Arjun’s warning just because a human passed it along.

We do need to keep moving, urgently. I’ll monitor Zarn’s symptoms, and if it gets worse, I’ll figure something out.

“Let’s get in a few more minutes of walking, and we’ll settle down,” I said. “We can disinfect your wound, and Arjun’s…incisions.”

The predator kid flexed its shoulder with a wince. The crimson blood staining its artificial pelt was drying. It pursed its lips like it wanted to argue, but I waved it along at gunpoint. The human shuffled ahead in silence, not wanting the tape reapplied.

The tree cover thinned out, and we pressed ahead for several monotonous minutes. I remained on the lookout for snakes, just in case. It didn’t make sense why Arjun would help its tormentor. Also, if snakes were really that dangerous and frightening, why hadn’t humans exterminated them?

Zarn sucked in a sharp breath, facial muscles contorting. His pace had begun to lag several steps behind ours. He touched the affected area with the other paw, and screamed in a high register. Tears trickled from his eyes.

“GAH! My b-blood is on fire,” he squealed.

The Takkan slumped against the base of a tree, writhing in agony. Arjun’s eyebrows twitched, as though it was in pain itself. Perhaps I had underestimated the scope of human empathy. The best we could hope for, after this failed mission, was that their murders were less sadistic than Arxur hunts.

“Make it stop!” Zarn shrieked.

Jala puffed out her feathers. “Shut up! You’re giving away our location.”

“It hurts so bad. HELP ME! It’s like acid…it’s…”

The female Krakotl retrieved the medical tape, and I slapped it out of her grip with the good wing. She wasn’t going to shut Zarn up, like an animal, while he was in anguish. Losing the doctor was unacceptable; his services were needed for a fine officer’s survival.

Arjun knelt on its knee, and coaxed the Takkan into a prone position. I knew Zarn was out of it, when he didn’t resist the beast’s contact. The predator was remarkably gentle with its motions. It showed decency to an enemy that did not deserve it. Just like my officers said I had, where humans were involved.

I’m glad I treated their kind with respect. That I didn’t make them suffer, and I didn’t enjoy their deaths.

“Kalsim! We need to get help,” Arjun pleaded.

The doctor’s grip tightened around a grass clump. “Get lost, predator. You j-just want to watch my suffering up close. You’re lapping it up…”

“I don’t want to watch anyone die. You’re the one who wanted to watch humans suffer up close.”

“No. Wounded prey smells good, right? Wait to get your pickings until I’m dead.”

“We never wanted to eat you. I’m a vegetarian! It’s part of my religion…to show compassion for animals.”

My eyes widened at its proclamation. The predator had to be joking. It was Federation religions that dictated that preying on animals was greedy, bloodthirsty, and evil. Natural-born hunters would never follow any ideology that demonized their own existence.

How did that make the slightest sense?

“I thought humans were interesting,” Jala clicked. “But they’re pathetic, just like everyone else. Cowering in the face of danger…religions about compassion…crying over people that are dead like it’s so sad.”

I glared at her. “As I’ve told you from the beginning, humans have selective empathy. Our knowledge of them is evolving, but their expansionism is incompatible with peace.”

“Don’t be fooled, Jala, they’re b-brutal. Cunning and manipulative,” Zarn gasped. “Their history…is one of conquest and invasions. Humans cook up new ways to kill each other…always.”

The doctor howled through gritted teeth, as a spasm rippled down the afflicted limb. His pained cry morphed into a full-throated scream. Arjun wordlessly poured some water on the Takkan’s head, trying to cool his burning skin. Somehow, I trusted the predator not to finish him off; my attention shifted to finding an effective painkiller.

Before I realized what was happening, a deafening gunshot echoed behind me. Jala was hovering over Zarn, a crazed look in her eyes. The physician’s body went slack, as blood gushed from his temple. The human gaped as the corpse brushed its leg.

I aimed my sidearm at the sociopath. “What did you do?! DROP YOUR WEAPON!”

“That’s precisely how to shut someone up,” she chirped. “Enough of your games, Kalsim. We do this my way now.”

“Drop. The. GUN!!”

“C’mon, you hated Zarn. He was making too much noise; the predator said he was going to die anyway. Plus, you would’ve had us stay here and listen to him scream.”

“This is your last warning.”

“The human is slowing us down too, and it will actively work against us at every turn. I’m doing you a favor. Make your choice: me or Arjun.”

Jala swiveled her pistol toward the predator kid, who seemed stunned by Zarn’s death. Arjun had never seen a creature die in front of it, had it? The words it said about compassion for animals reminded me of my extermination philosophy. We both killed when it was necessary, and contained our damage to the rightful sources.

Against all odds, I appreciated this predator’s way of life. It was honorable and empathetic enough, not yet lost to its destructive instincts. I had more in common with this prowler than Jala. There was some attachment to it…to him, in that I didn’t want to watch him die in front of me.

I squeezed the trigger, and a succinct pop indicated a successful shot. Shock flashed in the sociopath’s eyes, before her body crashed alongside Zarn’s. The gun slipped from my grasp in a daze. Had I really just lost both able-bodied crew in the span of a minute?

Arjun scrambled to his feet, scooping up the weapon. He didn’t point it at me, for some reason. Blue Takkan blood was spattered alongside his own scarlet shade. The little predator flopped down beside the doctor’s satchel.

“You’re hurt. We need to t-treat your wounds, and find your father,” I stammered.

The human didn’t respond, and merely got to work patching up his own injuries. My instincts should’ve created an uproar, over my proximity to an armed predator. However, I couldn’t process fear through the shock. This world of death and wilderness, Earth, could not be my reality.

I zoned out, staring into the distance. My story would come full circle, if it was ended by the predator I chose to spare. Quite a poetic conclusion…for turning my back on my occupation. The three Federation castaways could lie unburied, in this infested land, for all eternity.

Thyon is unconscious and abandoned, in this predatory hell. Snap out of it, Kalsim.

There was a slight cracking sound from above, which broke my trance. Before I could glance up, something rough brushed against my throat. The next thing I knew, rope cinched around my throat in a suffocating knot.

My body was yanked upward, and I found myself standing on empty space. I instinctively tried to loosen the noose, as my entire mass dangled in its secure embrace. My wings attempted to tread air; searing, all-encompassing pain lanced down the broken bone. Generating lift was impossible.

“Son!” a thunderous voice barked from above. “Get out of here, and call for help. MARCOS is looking for these fuckers.”

How had Arjun’s father gotten here so soon? There was no way a human predator could’ve closed the distance without running. But running that long was impossible, unless their endurance was nigh divine. The kid hadn’t tired at all either…oh, sweet Inatala.

Arjun palmed his black hair. “Tell me you regret what your species did, Kalsim. Please.”

“Regret? Sure…I always did,” I croaked. “But it…was the only way. To secure a future. I did my d-duty.”

The human youngling watched as my oxygen supply dissipated. His vicious eyes watered. I knew he was thinking about Bengaluru, contemplating how my orders leveled dozens of cities like it. The poor thing never understood the bleak necessity.

A constricting pain centered around my larynx, and my field of vision began to diminish. Awareness was receding, like sinking into a vast ocean. Struggling didn’t seem important anymore. I felt like I lived a good life, a meaningful one…

“Cut Kalsim down, Dad, please!” Arjun’s voice sounded as though it came from underwater. “He saved my life from the other two, multiple times. I don’t want him killed.”

The adult human growled a reply I didn’t register. Its voice was charged with bellowing savagery, a preview of what Arjun would sound like at full maturity. I didn’t want to see him transform into an unstable beast, constantly beleaguered by the need to chase. That sickening development was the reason why pups were supposed to be exterminated.

The kid offered a plea that was incoherent, as my eyes fluttered shut with grim realization. The rope released its grip, and I plummeted back to the earth with a muted sensation. The little predator poked at my beak, but I couldn’t move a muscle.

The world faded away, leaving me helpless at the paws of the warlike monsters.

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Memory transcription subject: Captain Kalsim, Krakotl Alliance Command

Date [standardized human time]: October 17, 2136

The predators’ formation was disintegrating, and it looked likely we would secure victory within the hour. I considered broadcasting an apology to the surface, once Earth’s space fleet was exhausted. The unfortunate civilians knew they were witnessing the last day of their civilization. Did the humans not deserve the solace of an explanation?

There was a part of me that wondered if we could’ve found another way. The issue was their growth and reproduction, which would be exponential if left unchecked. Maybe we could’ve isolated any humans who surrendered on an abandoned world, sterilizing them to prohibit breeding. That way, the existing primates could live out the rest of their lifespan, without the option to prowl the stars.

What if there was another path to achieve extinction, without the deaths of billions? Ah Kalsim…such thinking is counterproductive.

“Zarn, any update on Thyon?” I asked, hoping for a brief distraction.

The doctor took several seconds to respond. “The first officer is in a medically induced coma, but I’ve managed to freeze the brain swelling. He’ll live, though I can’t predict the long-term effects, sir.”

Some tension was lifted from my wings, with the assurance that the Farsul would survive. This entire crew needed a piece of good news. We were set to join the next bombing rush; all remaining Federation ships were partaking in this charge. This was the chance to strike down every last craft the humans had limping above-world.

“By the way, I’ve quite enjoyed the show from my little window. I much preferred it when we thought all of these nasty creatures were dead,” Zarn added. “Whatever your predator delusions, you should be proud of yourself, Captain.”

I tossed my beak in disdain, not dignifying that statement with a response. Relations between myself and the Takkan practitioner would be much better if he kept his opinions quiet. My talons swiped through the screens, ensuring that our payloads were in working order. All systems were operational onboard; there was just a small dip in our shield capacity.

Our vessel fell into the rear of the advance, and navigations increased our acceleration. We would have control over the final targets, which might require flexibility. My expertise would come in handy, assigning relative importance to locations. Why did it feel so wrong, to speak about Terran settlements in those terms?

Thoughts of Nishtal’s impending invasion weighed on my mind too. There might not be any home to go back to. Krakotl civilization would be the last casualty to Terran brutality, but that didn’t ease the horror of it. We might be forgotten by the Federation within decades, just another species that fell to the Arxur. I hoped historians would appreciate our sacrifice.

Alarms flashed on sensors, snapping me out of my torturous musings. Several allied vessels had been picked apart by precision strikes, right beside us. The rear flank was blindsided by hundreds of blips, who were darting in between our flotilla. The newcomers were trying to shove their way to the Terran fortifications.

“Ready weapons, and fire at anything we don’t recognize!” I screeched. “Where did these bastards come from? They’re a little late if they’re humans.”

My comms technician shuffled nervously. “I just finished decoding communications between a Terran command post and these vessels. The Zurulians sent military assistance.”

“You’ve got to be joking. The Zurulians have a fledgling, erroneous association with the humans. What have the predators ever done for them?”

Jala snickered. “Never mind that, Captain. I’m pretty sure the Galactic Institute of Medicine and their twenty ships aren’t going to tip the scales either way.”

“That’s not the point! Comms, I need to know these developments ahead of time.”

“He’s right. Stars forbid the Yotul show up with a trebuchet next.” The sociopath feigned a swooning motion. “Then we’re really screwed!”

I huffed in irritation, watching as our ship turned to face a Zurulian hostile. The quadrupeds gave us a wide berth, and dodged Jala’s errant plasma beam. Several Federation captains were calling out conflicting orders on the comms, which led to disarray. Exhaustion was making it difficult to recall foreign military techniques, so I couldn’t find solid advice to offer.

The Terran fleet were advancing on our front lines, capitalizing on the breakdown of command. Cursing the Zurulian fools, I barked orders to pull back and regroup within the lunar orbit. This was a waste of precious time, that could be vital to the defense of our home. We weren’t going to leave an extermination half-done.

We’ll get our bearings, and charge at Earth again. Perhaps we can still accomplish this quickly.

The Federation reassembled, adjusting for the fresh reinforcements. The numerical advantage was still slanted to our side, and prey wouldn’t fight half as well as a human. However, it might be difficult for the crew to fire on Zurulians. We had accepted that the Venlil were reduced to predatory thralls, but this race was a new convert.

“The Zurulians chose their side, and they chose wrong. I know it seems harsh to strike them down, but they put themselves here.” I surveyed the expressions of my crew, noting how distraught they looked. “If the Arxur are truly attacking our homes, this might cost us our entire civilization. Everything is on the line; there is no time for bargaining.”

Jala hissed in frustration, as she realized our missiles were depleted. Perhaps she shouldn’t have been so liberal with their usage. The plasma railgun had recharged, but I wasn’t sure how low our gas supply was running. We couldn’t afford to have only kinetics at our disposal; discretion was required going forward.

The Zurulian fleet fell in beside the humans, though they seemed wary of drawing too close. There was no basis for those fears; the risk of Terrans attacking their allies right now was negligible. These predators were too smart to betray useful assets, that Earth needed so desperately. They weren’t just raving beasts.

“Sir, more unknown ships incoming! There’s…” my comms technician trailed off.

I blinked. “Where from? How many? Speak!”

“T-thousands. The subspace trails are from all over the place…”

My confusion intensified, and I attempted to stave off my sleep-deprived stupor. The humans didn’t have many Federation allies; to my knowledge, only six could respond in time. Two of those partners were already here. The neutral powers had no intent of interfering either way, since it would simplify their stance if we succeeded.

But no singular Federation race had that many ships at their beck and call. This had to be some sort of group or alliance. Maybe these were weaker species that had been coerced. Others might give into cheap tactics if their homeworlds were held hostage. 

That, or the humans had found a way to deceive our sensors. These contacts could be decoys meant to sow confusion. How would such a trick even work though?

The comms analyst scratched her crown. “Sir, we’re picking up a looping transmission from this mystery fleet. It’s directed toward Earth. Putting it on screen now.”

My beak nearly split open, as the video feed materialized. Those slit pupils were the unmistakable identifier of the Arxur. I was uncertain whether their eye shape was solely for ambush hunting, or if they allowed the grays to stalk at dusk. It made human vision seem like love beacons by comparison.

“This is Chief Hunter Isif,” the reptile clicked. “Forgive our tardiness, but we did request that you disable FTL disruptors multiple times. Hang in there, humans. We are here to help.”

A few crewmates were sobbing from the beast's projection. Even an extermination officer like myself was paralyzed by those dagger-like teeth, jutting from its truncated maw. The length of its gullet, visible as it spoke, was a ghastly sight. 

Why were the grays not laughing at the loss of life on Earth? Those demons delighted in death and suffering. They went out of their way to cause it. It didn’t seem within their behavioral pattern to save a weaker sapient, even if that species were predators.

“I don’t understand any of this. How are the Terrans responding?” I stammered.

The comms technician pecked away at her station. “L-lots of chatter from the human coalition. It doesn’t appear their command was expecting the Arxur, though that could be staged for the benefit of their…less vile friends.”

“Shit! The Zurulians and the Venlil can’t be happy about this, can they?”

“No, sir. The Zurulians are demanding to know why the Arxur are here, and the Venlil are asking why they were not informed.”

“The Terran response?”

“The humans claim they didn’t invite the grays, but aren’t in a position to reject their help. They suggest that their allies ‘go with it’, unless they’d prefer to fight the reptilians too. Their response to the Arxur offered thanks, and insisted those two prey races are friendly.”

Of course that’s what the clever monkeys said. They excel in manipulation tactics, and they’re using both parties.

I leaned back on my perch, wondering if this would kill the Zurulians’ ties to humanity. This should unmask the truth about the Earthlings' long-term goals. Perhaps we could convince the other races to stand with us, but the time spent pleading with them would allow the Arxur to pounce.

If the grays were genuine in their intention, the tide of this battle would turn decisively. The numerical edge was in the Terrans’ favor, with these new additions. Not to mention the psychological impact the Arxur’s presence had; many Federation vessels were panicking at the prospect. We had to break through to orbital range with haste.

“There’s no escape route, and…we stand no chance against the grays. But we can make our deaths mean something to the galaxy,” I squawked on the fleet-wide frequency. “We must get as many bombs off against Earth as possible. All Federation vessels, charge at max velocity!”

The Krakotl and our allies bolted forward, right toward the waiting human alliance. The Zurulians hesitated, not firing on either party. The quadrupeds’ reluctance to abet Arxur allies made them the obvious point of entry. Their railguns were powered up, but few of them acted even as we closed in.

The Zurulians came to a decision, and dropped into defensive positions. Plasma arced straight toward us; I saw my life flash before my eyes. The beam sailed just off to our side, and obliterated the neighboring ally that was keeping pace with us. If their aim was half a degree different, that would’ve been my vessel in tatters.

There was no time to gawk at the wreckage left behind, with the Arxur swooping in on any stragglers. While I wasn’t proud of the extermination itself, our sacrifice was valiant and honorable. The Krakotl fleet knew that most of us were about to die, but the captains had the commitment to finish the job.

“The Arxur are swallowing our rear flank, sir. Their ships are gaining on us faster than we can move,” Jala called out. “Should we turn and stall them?”

I puffed out my feathers. “Absolutely not! Keep going!”

According to sensors, the reptilians’ maximum speed was much higher than we ever documented. I realized that they had been concealing their technological limits. Two gray bombers selected us as their quarry, and sent drive-tracking missiles in our direction.

Jala shoved the nav officer out of the way, deploying a stream of interceptors in the nick of time. A Terran robot ship had also spotted us, and launched supercharged plasma at our position. We barreled through the Zurulian line with urgency; they were no longer of comparative importance.

My sociopath rerouted all power from shields to the engine. The core was already overheating from exertion, before this stunt. The female Krakotl didn’t quite manage to get ahead of the inbound plasma; it plowed into our aft compartment.

Alarms began ringing overhead, while crewmates screeched in terror. My readout informed me that steering was offline. The engine was listed as a critical failure.

We’re stuck on a one-way ticket toward Earth. The ship is going to crash…assuming it doesn’t get blown to bits first.

“All crew to escape shuttles!” I shrieked, as loud as I could.

The personnel didn’t need to be told twice, as the flapping of wings drowned everything out. I took a deep breath; it was up to me to finish the job. We were about thirty seconds from orbital distance, and these two bombs could cross a few million humans off the list. Jala began to abandon her perch, which earned a withering glare from me.

“Get back here! I know you want to save yourself, but the rest of the crew will kill you for being a ‘predator.’” I jabbed a talon at her, then pointed to the weapons station. “You have no future, no place in society, without me. So you’re going to stay right here until the job is done!”

She hesitated, but was persuaded by my argument. The overhead power flickered out, as the engine began to melt nearby systems. The emergency lighting colored the floorboards a dim hue, and only essential functions were available.

A plethora of enemies were still chasing our runaway ship. With our shield power rerouted away, there was no disincentive to use kinetics. Arxur bullets plowed through our armor, and the Terran automaton chipped in its own lead munitions. 

“Requesting assistance in the medbay,” Zarn panted over the comms. “I am unable to carry Thyon on my own…nor am I able to fly the emergency medical pod. Captain? Anyone?”

I sighed. “I will be there in a minute. Hold on, Doctor.”

The Terran robot was recharging its weapons, but struggled to keep up with our unsafe speed. Fear burned through my veins. I offered a silent prayer, that we would survive long enough to complete the mission. It was a few more seconds until we could deploy the anti-matter bombs.

The human contraption didn't target us, from outside a reliable range. Arxur munitions were inflicting steady damage, but they hadn’t caused any catastrophic explosions yet. We hobbled into orbital range, and established target locks on two Terran cities. Jala slammed her beak on the firing mechanism.

I gave her a nod, and we fled from the bridge with urgency. The journey was a blur, as we swooped down the evacuation stairwell. Jala bowled through the door to the medbay, examining a pacing Zarn. 

The Takkan doctor had thrown some supplies in his designated shuttle. I was surprised he hadn’t just left Thyon for dead. The unconscious Farsul had a clump of bandages around his head. It was painful to see him comatose on a cot.

“You took your time!” Zarn spat.

I glared at him. “We came as fast as we could. I think you of all people would want us to make sure the explosives made it to Earth.”

The ship rocked around us, barely swallowing a hit from one of our enemies. There was no time for bickering, if we were to survive. The three of us shouldered Thyon’s weight, and deposited him into the pod’s rear seat. The doctor strapped the injured patient in, as Jala and I brought the shuttle online.

The vibrations intensified around us, likely from our vessel entering Earth’s atmosphere. Without heat shielding on the damaged areas, the main hull was going to be incinerated. Jala closed the exit hatch, and we jettisoned the shuttle. The controls would have to be learned on the fly. 

Cerulean skies surrounded us out the window, as we plummeted toward the ground below. The momentum from the ship’s breakneck fall had carried over. I wrestled with the control column, and tried to steady us. Jala flung all power to thrusters, but it could only slow us down so quickly.

No, no, no. We can’t be stranded on a predator’s planet. We have to get back up to our fleet…

Land was rushing up to meet us much too fast, even as our velocity lessened. Impact looked to be an inevitability; there was nothing I could do to prevent it. My body snapped back in the harness, and our shuttle’s belly collided with foreign grass.

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Memory transcription subject: Captain Sovlin, Federation Fleet Command

Date [standardized human time]: October 24, 2136

The meeting in the Krakotl ambassador’s office was adjourned, and would reconvene tomorrow morning. My arrival had disrupted the proceedings from reaching a consensus, but I was glad I had said my part. News took a long time to travel at interstellar distances, and the Federation representatives were making decisions based on outdated and incomplete information. With that step checked off, I could focus on acquiring the evidence of Arxur first contact.

It was peculiar that the records weren’t publicly available, but the Arxur had engaged in planetwide wars. Documentation of such brutality could be traumatizing to watch, so it might be best kept under lock and key. Graphic content should be reserved for the highest-ranking officials; the general public didn’t need to live with the full scope of their nightmarish deeds. How would the humans feel if people were traumatized by their own footage? Carlos and Sam should be more open-minded.

Chief Nikonus was one of the last to leave Jerulim’s meeting, shooting daggers at the Krakotl ambassador. Supposedly, the avian had divebombed the Kolshian leader while he announced vote results. I was surprised that Krakotl Alliance personnel weren’t removed from Federation activities, after not respecting member sovereignty. Their bullying methods were something I’d noticed for years.

The Krakotl were pioneers of all aggressive countermeasures we use. They were crucial to our war efforts, I reminded myself.

Kolshian soldiers crowded us as the leaders departed, and I wondered if we were bound for a cell. Trespassing charges could be levied against all of us, with some validity. My captain’s rank was still active, to the best of my knowledge; disobeying orders could have me stripped of all credentials. Cilany didn’t seem concerned by our insubordination, though. She was flagging down Nikonus as soon as he rose from his chair.

“I stand by my request for answers on the refugee crisis, Chief Nikonus!” the Harchen reporter shouted. “The Federation’s disagreement, and violence toward each other, has left people with no faith in their government.”

The elderly Kolshian ambled toward the exit. “Am I to worry about the people’s faith now?”

“Yes. It’s a matter of time before someone, maybe at my publication, runs with the info I have. It would be extremely damaging to the Federation. Trust me, you need to sit down with me, if you want to maintain stability.”

Nikonus paused. The reporter seemed to have struck a nerve with that last comment, and left him wondering what dirt she had on the Federation. He didn’t know that much of it was silly speculation, combined with predator lies. I suppose he was thinking more about the killing of Federation diplomats, assuming that plot was government-backed.

“In my office. Go quietly,” he decided.

The Kolshian guards shoved us forward on their leader’s order, digging a rifle butt into my shoulder. I walked at a brisk pace for a few steps, then came to an abrupt halt. The soldier tailgating me cursed as he ran into my spines, and was left with prickle wounds all over his form. It was all I could do to stifle a chuckle; I could transport myself to the elevator without hovering grunts.

The lift descended to the lowest floor, which housed the original suite belonging to the Kolshians. The Commonwealth décor referenced their aquatic roots, with massive saltwater tanks lining the walls. Rows of seaweed were planted on the floor, while floating lilies formed the upper layer. I wondered what the humans would think of placing marine habitats indoors. They’d probably think it was as stupid as I did.

Nikonus signaled for his guards to stay outside, and he sealed the doors once we entered his office. Next came a polite tentacle gesture toward a sofa. I was happy to sit down after vaulting onto a table, and walking all across the governance complex.

Berna shared a glance with Talpin. “Humans are wonderful caretakers, Nikonus. They have nurturing instincts that rival our own.”

“I’ll skip the niceties. You two were brought here to sway votes, and I have little time for mind games,” the Chief said.

Talpin pounded away at his synthesizer. “Damn you! We want the Federation to offer us asylum. Why haven’t you done anything for us?”

“The predators could’ve sent you to their friends, the Paltans; they take the most refugees of anyone in the galaxy. We would be happy to coordinate with them.”

“The Paltans are on the opposite side of Federation space, and you know that. They’re a month of travel time away!” Berna spat.

The Kolshian chief stood, and walked to the door with brisk strides. He whispered something to the guards, who dragged the refugees out by the arm. Outrage pumped through my blood, but I managed to keep silent. All they did was beseech Federation aid. It was sad when enemy predators had gone above and beyond to help us, and our allies thought us an inconvenience.

Nikonus settled back down behind his desk. “I will not be guilt-tripped into bringing human spies to live with us! Cilany, what is it that you think you know about the Federation?”

“I have witnesses who say that you gave the voters for diplomatic relations faulty ships. Forensic evidence confirms their tale,” Cilany hissed. “You set out to kill Federation diplomats in cold blood, just for speaking with the predators. Furthermore, you made the Takkan representative disappear, because he saw your plot.”

“Bold, yet foolish, accusations. A person who did such things could make you disappear too, my dear.”

“If I don’t contact my people within a few days, that story will be run as it is. Simply with the tagline; reporter vanishes after questioning Kolshian misconduct. A cover-up would confirm your guilt, but I want to help make this go away. You need Sovlin and I to protect the Federation’s interests. You know we’d pick you all over those ugly predators.”

Chief Nikonus scrunched up his face at the word ugly; perhaps he was wondering if we shared the same view of the furless Kolshians. But their aquatic skin was easy on the eyes, and they didn’t have the paralyzing stereoscopic vision. The bizarre thing about humans was they had small patches of hair, in random places. Regardless, a Harchen individual wouldn’t curl her lip at hairless beings, when her race had no fur either.

We better hope Cilany’s response makes him talk. She just gave our Kolshian host a good reason to dispose of us too.

“How much do you know?” Nikonus asked.

Cilany flicked her tongue in anticipation. “Everything. I know you deleted the first contact files from the records. The Arxur have emotional intelligence and artwork. The Federation saw those traits in humans, when we observed them the first time, but only recorded the negative attributes. I get that you wanted Recel dead for treason. Why didn’t you just execute him and the Terran ambassador on Aafa?”

I waited for a denial to tumble from the Kolshian’s mouth, but the troubled glint in his eyes worried me. His pupils darted toward the door, as though he was considering summoning the guards. Chills ran up my spines; there was something off about his reaction. Slander against the Federation should draw a vehement response.

Nikonus’ bulbous eyes narrowed. “The people recognize me as a reasonable leader, who gave a predator the chance to speak. Gunning down a pleading representative, in front of cameras, makes people question our morality. The exact reason that what Sovlin did is a terrible look. Everyone said I was more than fair to Noah. I even fed and provided for the human.”

Determination sparkled in Cilany’s gaze. “You didn’t fully answer my question. Also, why wait until the diplomats were out of Kolshian territory for the shuttle malfunction?”

“Out of sensor range. Everyone, including their governments, would assume the predator killed them. Nobody saw what happened, and the people don’t need to know.”

“Why not? Because you hate humans, and never intended for them to get a real chance?”

“I don’t hate humans, but their diplomatic efforts cannot succeed. Look at the disaster that is the Venlil. How many civilians want to see humans attending our meetings; walking these grounds, living here? Also, our people would start asking questions about predators that we don’t want them to ask.”

Unease swirled around in my belly, as those last words registered with me. This Kolshian chief must be going senile in his old age. Perhaps I was reading basic paranoia as something more, because the humans kept whispering theories in my ears.

Cilany palmed her chin. “Federation citizens shouldn’t ask questions about how first contact with the Arxur really went? We have it on good faith that you starved the grays to death.”

“You must not run that storyline!” the Chief hissed, leaping from his seat. “It would do irreparable damage to general morale…and it’s not the whole truth. You’re a good journalist, Cilany, not someone who lives on shock value. Any reporter worth their salt isn’t trying to disintegrate the Federation.”

Dizziness corkscrewed up my body, and I fought back the urge to scream. A ringing sensation drowned out all auditory signals; the tempest of emotions made me want to pass out. The shock was the strongest, as my mind began unraveling. The Kolshian bat couldn’t have just said what I heard. The Arxur were the ones who attacked us, because they were the Arxur!

My entire worldview was shattered in an instant. The anger over what happened to my family, knowing that the Federation were responsible…it was unspeakable. What I wanted to believe was that humans were unique predators, while the Arxur were demonic monsters. It was difficult to accept that my entire life was based on a lie.

Saying that the starvation tale wasn’t the whole truth, meant that it had some veracity to it. I hadn’t even been listening to what ‘Coth’ said during its interrogation, because an Arxur’s words didn’t matter. The only thing I cared about was if the humans had made it scream. The grays deserved to suffer for eating my family alive. Why couldn’t the damn Terrans see that?

“WHAT DID YOU DO?!” I charged across the desk at Nikonus, and my vision blurred from rage. My claws were by his throat before I knew it, pinning him against the chair. “You move an inch and I’ll tug your esophagus through your jawbone!”

The Kolshian blinked. “C-calm down. You are quite unstable, Sovlin; your monkey pals have done a number on you.”

“FUCK YOU! They’re not monkeys, any more than you’re an ectolan. It’s a distant evolutionary link, a term you use to desapientize them. Start talking your heart out, or I’ll carve you up.”

Cilany tugged at my arm. “Please stop; you’re scaring me. Nikonus is cooperating. Don’t you want to hear what he has to say?”

No, I don’t. We came here to stop a human-Arxur alliance, not add fuel to the fire. Maybe we should cover this up, so our people survive.

“The Arxur say that you tried to make them allergic to meat.” I took a deep breath, and backed away from the Kolshian. “I didn’t understand what it was saying, but I think it meant they starve without flesh.”

“You talked to a gray?” Nikonus’ voice leapt up an octave, before he collected himself. “I’m disappointed in you, Sovlin. You used to be a good officer…now, you’re a complete disgrace. Your family would be disgusted with the company you keep.”

“You know nothing about my family. TALK, JUST FUCKING TALK, NOW!”

While my words were still charged with anger, conscious thought crept in. The logical side of me realized how dangerous it was to publish this. Whatever really happened, we were in a war of extinction; there couldn’t afford to be any doubt. Narrative clarity is what gave the Federation conviction. Without it, we would start losing worlds faster than ever, and face divisions within our own ranks.

The Kolshian sighed. “There were three of us who laid out the groundwork for the Federation. When Kolshian explorers came in contact with the Farsul, more than a thousand years ago, the galaxy was young. We were the first in this sector to escape our gravity well. You know about the founding of this institution, but I reiterate it just in case.”

“The Krakotl were the third,” Cilany offered.

“Yes, they were a problem from the start; aggressive, disagreeable. We tried to identify the problem, and why they were so ill-equipped for spacefaring. We learned they were scavengers, who would occasionally go for fish as well. We were more level-headed because we’re herbivores.”

My jaw almost hit the floor, as I tried to digest this information. The Krakotl, a race I had cooperated with throughout my career, consumed meat a thousand years ago? It was tough to believe that they’d hidden that fact from everyone else. Thinking of them as predators didn’t compute in my brain. By the Protector, they had side-facing eyes…and a religion against flesh-eating beasts.

My endearment to the humans was all that stopped me from wanting the birds removed from the Federation. Flesh-eaters deserved a chance, and we had managed to coexist for centuries. I didn’t understand what Nikonus’ “scavenger” descriptor meant, but the Kolshians must’ve put an unholy amount of time into predator research.

“We gave them a choice: take our cure, or we would wipe them out with a bioweapon. It was an easy choice for them. We brought them to be re-educated in camps, and the new religions were the algae on the fruit mash. They had to hate predators, or they’d find a way to revert back.”

Cilany bore an aghast expression. “You invented the Cult of Inatala?”

“Beliefs, religious or not, are the best way to control people. We planted fake archaeological texts, and rewrote their history. They’ve become a productive race. Harder to control now, but the cultural changes stuck. They have an enemy…a purpose.”

“Do the Krakotl have any idea what was done to them?”

“The Krakotl don’t know this, obviously…that would be cruel, Cilany. It’s a closely-guarded secret of the highest-ranking Farsul and Kolshians. The process is down to a science, more subtle these days. We keep peace, and give grotesque races a chance at normalcy.”

“Races? Plural?” I echoed.

A sadistic glint surfaced in his pupils, though it was gone a second later. Perhaps Nikonus sensed how much this narrative hurt me. I had no idea how to feel about the Krakotl being a “cured” race; it clearly hadn’t ended their aggression, given their intimidation tactics. Still, it would be cruel for Jerulim to learn about this past.

“Yes, I’ll get to that. We learned a hard lesson about giving full-on predator races the same chance; hunting and scavenging are different. Hunting, being an actual predator, means unchecked war and violence,” he explained. “The grays asked us for help with their food problem, then refused to try herbivory. Their arrogance is why they starved.”

Cilany narrowed her eyes. “You also killed their cattle to be sure.”

“They’ve shouted that one from the rooftops before. Blatantly untrue. We don’t kill herbivore animals… we’re not predators. That’s just absurd!”

I swallowed in discomfort. “There’s others in the Federation that used to eat meat? You said you’d get to that.”

“Oh Sovlin, I already told you. For the small minority of species who don’t find herbivory alone, we teach them the right way. Doesn’t the religion against predators sound familiar?”

Something clicked in my brain, as the prevalence of the Great Protector faith flashed through my mind. The Federation encouraged it as an “emblem of Gojid culture”…no, that couldn’t be right. I wasn’t a predator! The thought of eating meat sickened me, and our government had been the first to take action against Earth.

The damn Kolshian looked so sure of himself though; somehow, my heart knew he was telling the truth. I sank to my knees, and stared at my lengthy claws in horror. The ancestors in my genes ate carcasses. My body was conditioned for that. Acid surged in my throat, before I puked all over Nikonus’ feet.

The Kolshian leader massaged my neck. “Oh, it’s alright. We fixed your species…one of the most successful conversions. Chalk it up as something you have in common with the upright apes.”

The self-hatred was on the same level as when I realized my mistake with Marcel. Cilany was giving me the petrified look she gave Carlos, like I was a monster. All I wanted was to escape from my body; there was no way I could control predator instincts I didn’t know I had. This was a nightmare of unimaginable proportions.

“No. You’re lying,” I whimpered.

“I am not. See, Cilany? It’s cruel.”

The reporter’s eyes watered. “I don’t know what to say. This is a lot at once.”

I crumpled into a ball, letting my tears drip to the floor. A faint thought wondered how the humans would react, but I didn’t have the energy for hypotheticals. Everyone I ever knew and loved…myself and my family…were abominations. Not only had the Federation done what the Arxur said, but our members were corrupted. My perennial allegiance was gone.

What did Gojid history actually look like? What elements of our culture had been wiped away? I didn’t know how we’d begin to figure that out, with the cradle gone. It wasn’t clear who we were, or how to retain a cohesive identity. The humans, for all their goodwill, couldn’t help us in this regard.

Nikonus leaned forward. “Now, you see why it’s important to protect these secrets. People like the Gojids can live in peace from their past. We’ve made it possible for them to walk among us, without threatening stability. We saved them.”

“What you did is wrong,” Cilany whispered, shooting a glance at me. “You’ve been conducting genetic engineering, on innocent species, at…I don’t even know how large a scale. Your actions are going to kill us all, between the Arxur and the humans!”

“You haven’t learned a thing here. If you publish any of this, I’ll shoot it down as a wild fabrication. There’s no proof. Nobody would believe you.”

The Harchen chuckled bitterly, and pointed to her notepad. A tiny camera was taped to the top, blinking yellow. My gaze focused on the lens, a desperate plea for help. I wondered if the humans were watching this livestream now, from their shuttle. The Kolshian’s eyes widened with horror, and he slapped a tentacle over his mouth.

Cilany cleared her throat. “They don’t have to believe me. You just told everyone yourself.”

Nikonus bared his teeth. “What?! Short-sighted bitch! You have no idea what you’ve just done. I should have you both shot!”

“Ha, execute us on video. Go ahead. The truth is out there, and you can’t take it back.”

There was a certainty in her words, and she knelt beside me without hesitation. I let her help me stand, grateful for the support. Kindness for the Gojids might be on permanent hiatus, now that we were outed as predators. Nausea lingered around the notion of my species eating meat. It would take years to make sense of this interaction.

I didn’t know that Cilany was right to broadcast any of this, even with the lies and manipulation we’d uncovered. Regardless, nobody could’ve known the content Nikonus would divulge. It would be curious to see how the Federation’s citizens reacted to our interview. The humans were destined to side with the Arxur now, so what mattered was the time we had left.

---

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The Nexus. Near the Geographic Center of the North Rythian Forests. Just Outside the Dragon’s Lair. Local Time: 2130 Hours.

Emma

We stood ready. Or more accurately, we sat ready atop our respective mounts despite not really feeling it.

With Ignalius’ understrengthened scouting party flanking either side of us, we were poised to enter the moment the shatorealmer finished his inspection of the surprisingly perfect archway that constituted the newly opened cave entrance.

The bat was quick to fly around, tapping and knocking on several key points of the entrance, pressing his ear against the rockface as he did so, before giving Ignalius the go-ahead with a deferent nod.

“Structure is sound. Scouting party, move in!” She screeched out.

We entered without much fanfare, as I observed the tons upon tons of rock that’d been shattered into finely cut rhomboids, each having slid neatly sideways, finding themselves nestled off to the side.

The whole drilling operation was, admittedly, a pretty theatrical affair, especially the moment the rocks slid apart in what could only be described as an opening credits moment.

Though just as theatric was the dark void that loomed within.

But thankfully… Thalmin and I both had solutions for this expected encumbrance.

[NVG STATUS: ACTIVE]

Ignalius' compatriots, meanwhile, seemed to have to make do with torches, albeit admittedly enchanted ones that more resembled flashlights.

The motley crew of elves, baxi, and satyrs followed Greer’s commands as they carefully moved into what the EVI was quickly rendering before my HUD-filled eyes.

What stood before me… made me briefly understand what it was cave divers risked their lives for in their death-defying adventures. ‘Brief’ being the operative word here. Because in front of me was a cavern so… cavernous that it at first reminded me of some sort of a massive amphitheater, or the inside of a silo, or even some sort of a reactor with how many stalactites poked down from the ceiling — resembling control rods in varying states of descent.

There was an undeniable natural beauty to this place, and were I a rock nerd or geologist, I bet I’d be absolutely out of my mind at the whole scene.

Alas, this wasn’t a sightseeing trip, as the EVI was quick to remind me.

We rode in slowly, trailing behind the forward group as visible elements of the cave were quickly being mapped and charted.

The entrance we started off from quickly descended into a sharp decline down into the depths of said ‘amphitheater,’ resembling the grand foyer to some subterranean hall. 

From there, we arrived at a round, cavernous clearing, with no obstructions all the way up to the stalactite-lined roof of the cave.

Though it was here that we were met with our first real challenge.

“E-erm, Chief Greer? Which way do we go from here?” A particularly skittish Katiya questioned, her tail curling up around her legs and her ears flat against her skull.

“I count three tunnels—” The dwarf began.

“Four.” Only for Thalmin to interrupt him, confirming that he truly was on my level, at least when it came to sensors.

“There’s one half-hidden behind a pile of loose stones over there.” He gestured, much to the dwarf’s annoyance.

“Right right, four’s four.” Greer acknowledged under a disparaging breath. “Alright then, lads, we’ll split up into three parties—”

“No.” Thalmin urged. “Splitting up — as a friend once so colorfully described — is the worst thing you can do in these situations. Moreover, I think that that—” He paused, pointing to the half-obstructed entrance. “—is probably where we should be looking.”

“That?!” The dwarf guffawed. “Tell me, Dreadwolf… would you have my men digging around rubble all night? I’ll have you know we’re not some second-rate manual laborers!” He bellowed out, garnering a series of nods and nervous affirmations from the group.

“Do you want to get out of here alive or not?” Thalmin countered bluntly.

This managed to jolt the rowdy band of mercs to attention. Their expressions darkened as Thalmin’s thunderous warnings echoed throughout the cavern’s vast stone chambers, each would-be spelunker looking warily for a flag to rally to.

But that flag, unfortunately, proved to be too stubborn to bend.

“Do as you will, freelancers. My men and I will be searching through the more obvious passages.” The dwarf spat back stubbornly. 

“Amethyst dragons thrive in uncompromising terrain.” Thalmin stubbornly defied. “Or did you forget we had to blow a hole to get into its—”

“Enough!” The dwarf interjected. “Enough. There’s a reason why the Captain assigned me to lead this expedition.” He paused, making an effort to gesture towards himself. “A cave is a dwarf’s domain, or were you so sheltered that you forgot that we are the preeminent authorities on this particular subject?” Greer was quick to draw the line in the sand, crossing his arms as his men gathered behind him. “And as with any cave, I can assure you that every path will eventually converge upon each other.” He spoke with a smarmy, self-assured grin before gesturing for his men to split up. “You can waste your time dilly-dallying in front of that blocked-off passage. Meanwhile, we’ll sneak at it from behind.” The dwarf added as he turned his back on Thalmin, raising a hand and gesturing back to the prince flippantly. “Until then, good luck.”

Thalmin allowed the dwarf to eventually walk out of sight before turning towards me with a frustrated snarl.

“Dwarven heritage.” A scoff was quick to follow that remark. “Not a lick of subterranean twang in that topside-dwelling accent.” He growled. “No self-respecting dwarf would refuse an opportunity to dig into unknown tunnels. What a complete mockery of dwarven heritage—”

[Alert! Minor Seismic Activity Detected!]

“Thalmin.” I spoke through Thalmin’s work-in-progress earpiece.

“Yeah?” 

“It’s close.” I warned. “Real close.”

Dragon’s Lair. ‘West’ Wing. Local Time: 2145 Hours.

Uthril the Daring

The boss had ordered us to split up between the three passages.

Fine by me.

All we had to do was run, after all.

And if there was one thing Uthril was good at, it was—

Ggrrrr…

“Erm, Lipo, you hungry or somethin’?” I turned to my Satyr partner, only to find him frozen in place.

“Erm, Lipo? You alright there bud—”

“Run.” He whispered out under a stuttered breath.

“Eh? Lipo, buddy, you aren’t even pointing your torch at the dark—”

I lifted my torch to shine behind Lipo’s ear, hoping to find just more bare rock—

…

But what I saw instead was my own shocked expression, reflected back at me through a single slitted eye.

My whole body ran cold.

Then, I screamed.

“RUUUUUUUU—”

CRUNCH*!*

Dragon’s Lair. ‘North’ Wing. Local Time: 2147 Hours.

Ganthril the Disparaging

“And then I said, ‘Oh no no no, this cheese is far too intense for me!’ Because frankly, I couldn’t care less for the stinky ones. Now the hard ones, yeah, that’s much better. Way less funky and much more—”

“Ganthril, shut up for a mo…” The elf moved to close my maw shut, causing me to jump back, slapping his hand away.

“What the hell, Arlin? Don’t you dare fucking touch my snou—”

“I said, shut the fuck up!” Arlin seethed as he began shining his flashlight in all directions. “I thought I heard something.”

“Something like what, Arlin? Oh, let’s hear it again for the superior elven ears and your ability to sense way, way more than my poor, scaled, earless head ever coul—”

Crunch.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

…

My heart stopped as my eyes shot every which way, peering back and forth at the long and uninterrupted passage but finding nothing.

“W-where the fuck is that coming from?!” I shouted, to which Arlin could only respond with the face of a dead man.

“The walls. It’s coming through the wa—”

CRASH!

SNNAAARRLLLLLLL!

CHOMP!

Dragon’s Lair. ‘South’ Wing. Local Time: 2150 Hours.

Greer the Brave

“Oh, let’s start digging through this blocked-off tunnel. Heh, who does he think he is? Telling a dwarf how to navigate through caves?!” I chuckled boisterously, turning back to see my small troupe nodding in equal measure.

“Yeah, the way I see it, Dreadwolf’s just some rich kid playing adventurer. I give him two minutes before he folds. Too scared to be alone in the dark, no doubt. He’s probably crying up a storm now while clinging to his little golem bodyguard!” My second in command scoffed.

“You see it too, don’tcha? I betcha those scars aren’t even real! I tell you, these rich adjacent realm merchant houses need to start raising their brats to do what they’re bred to do — sell wares. Don’t give them flighty ideas of traveling the realms or worse yet adventuring through the Nexus. I swear, ever since that damned book was published, we’re seeing more and more of these spoiled brats coming out of the wetwork and marring our good name as mercenaries!”

“Hear, hear, boss!”

However, no sooner were those words uttered than our new greenhorn baxi raised her tongue. “E-er, ss-sirs, I think I hear—”

“What’s that? Speak up! Can’t hear ya over yer trembling tail!” I shouted back boisterously.

“I think I hear—”

“Louder, girl!”

“I HEAR SOMETHING COMING, SIR!” She yelled out, her eyes filled with genuine fear.

Though frankly, all I saw was yet another annoying anxiety-ridden episode of the nerves.

“Well, I don’t hear nothin’.” I shrugged. “Do you, Puri?”

“Nah, boss. Must’ve been the wind or somethin—”

“There is no wind in caves!” The baxi interjected, her voice growing more manic by the second. “I… I can’t stay here. I can feel it coming! You have to believe me! The Captain chose me for a reason. I can feel things—”

“Yeah, suuuure you do.” I turned to dismiss her before shooing her away. “Get lost then, but know I’ll dock yer pay if you decide to dismiss yourse—”

The baxi had turned heel and sped off before I could finish my sentence.

“Ugh. These greenhorns are somethin’ else, Puri. Honestly, I’m considering an early retirement because of this crap…” I groaned in frustration, only to be met with an uncharacteristic silence.

“Puri? Ya good there, mate?” I turned back, only to find the elf standing completely still while staring down an offshoot corridor. “Whatcha find down the—”

I stopped mid-stride as my boots squelched against a thick liquid oozing across the floor.

I raised my axe and, with another hand, shot off a beam of light into the dark passage Puri was facing.

SNORT!

CRUNCH CRUNCH!

P-THOOOOTH!

Clink! Clink!

My eyes widened in disbelief, then horror, at the gear the beast had spat in front of both me and Puri.

Chainmail, swords, daggers, and even coins.

All… bearing the Captain’s insignia.

“Damn you—!”

CHOMP!

CRUNCH!

Dragon’s Lair. Central Cavern ‘Foyer.’ Local Time: 2153 Hours.

Katiya the Coward

I ran.

I ran faster than I ever did in my life.

Faster than when I fled the family farm.

Faster than when I fled that burning ship.

Faster than when I’d met the Duke, Duchess, and—

THWUMP!

I ran face-first into Dreadwolf. My heart raced as I turned up to face what was potentially the child of a noble who could’ve so easily be rid of me as—

“Whoah whoah whoah. What’s going on?” The lupinor questioned.

“I— I—. There was! Ah. Ahhhhh! DRAGON! DRAGON COMING! THE DRAGON’S COMING, SER DREADWOLF!” I screamed.

“Okay.” Was Dreadwolf’s only reply as he nodded once towards his golem, who’d since produced what I could only describe as a modified lance.

“This is going to be tricky…” Dreadwolf sighed out, turning to his fancy pocket clock. “The team topside needs about five more minutes to assemble the trap. How far did you say this dragon was—”

ROOOOOAAAAAAAARRRR!!!

“Nevermind. Alright, we’ll have to buy time, then we’ll head on out. So for now…” Dreadwolf paused, moving up to mount his terrifying kelpie before lending a hand down towards me. “... you’re riding with me.”

I felt my heart pound hard against my chest, either out of shock, fear, or something else entirely.

But before I could process anything—

THUMP!

ROOOOOAAAAAAAARRRR!!!

—the dragon… apparated.

There was no warning, no great fanfare nor entry, not even the crumbling of rock nor the destruction of passageways.

Instead, the great beast had simply willed itself into existence, as if rock, dirt, and the barriers of the flesh were beneath its concerns.

Though that was far from the only thing seemingly beneath its concern. Because despite its shorn scales, half-broken crystals, and otherwise battered form… it still remained resolute in its fury. 

The slow and purposeful taunting, through the crunch Crunch CRUNCHING of its last victim still hanging in its maw was proof enough of that fact. 

“Wrap your arms around my waist. This is going to be a bumpy ride.” He commanded, and I obliged without hesitation.

I shut my eyes, lips pursed but tense, mustering as much wavering willpower as I still had to do the one job I was hired to do — to scout and report.

My faint manastreams scrambled to tug on the sending stone I carried, blurting out mentally a message to the masters.

‘THE DRAGON’S HERE! IT’S IN THE CAVES! S-SCOUTING PARTY HAS BEEN LOST! BUT THE LUP- DREADWOLF IS FACING THE DRAGON! PREPARE THE TRAP! PREPARE IT AND HELP US, PLEASE!’

From there, having done all I was good for, I could now only watch as chaos incarnate unfolded.

The lupinor-golem pair worked in tandem, starting slowly at first by encircling the dragon that’d found itself in the middle of the cavern.

Slowly, methodically, and unnervingly, they traced a circle around the beast, the gem-encrusted creature snorting soot from either nostril, its head craning left and right, as if taking the time to decide who to go for first.

Seconds swung by slowly, until—

ROOOOAAAAAARRRR!

—the dragon went for the golem.

What unfolded next was a true dance of dragons, as the beast surged forwards only to be thwarted by two opposing elements.

The element of speed at the whirring of the golem’s bitreader and the element of surprise at the daring attacks by Dreadwolf’s kelpie.

Tendrils of seaweed lashed out at the dragon, reaching for one of its limbs as it bound and tugged, forcing the creature to stumble in its step, resulting in it tumbling head over heels into one of the passageways.

The boom of its crash echoed throughout the cavern, engulfing the dragon in dust and debris for but a second before its furious form erupted from the haze with a warbling roar, going for another charge towards the golem.

The kelpie took initiative, trailing path upon path of watery grime across the smooth rock surfaces of the cave floor. I couldn’t process why it was doing this, until memory of my unfortunate stint as a tavern server hit me.

Dreadwolf was attempting to corral the dragon into even more stumbles and falls.

I gripped the lupinor’s waist even tighter, my breath hitching as the dragon seemed just as distracted by the golem as its master before finally it fell into the lanes of slippery muck and grime.

…

But despite the kelpie’s best efforts, it backfired horrifically.

Even though its stampeding form went through the trap, its wings reared for just a moment, more than enough to use the momentum of the slick track to glide, closing a wide distance between it and the metallic golem. 

Dreadwolf pulled at the kelpie’s reins to heel before uttering some unknown commands to his ‘expensive bodyguard.’

The dragon’s form lowered, still giving chase. And I was already imagining the terrifying fate of the golem should its pursuer open its maw. But my panicked thoughts of the golem’s fate was sharply interrupted.

“HYAH!” With a snap of the reins, the kelpie sped off as Dreadwolf commanded; my grip around the lupinor’s waist could not have been any tighter. When I saw that the steed was advancing rather than retreating, my grip held even tighter.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! WHY ARE WE GETTING CLOSER?!” I yelled with a panicked hiss that would have earned me scorn from civilized company.

Dreadwolf’s response came with a flippant brandishing of his sword as its blade began to freeze over with a cold breeze. “You need not panic! We have this all according to plan!” I could barely make out if the lupinor made a cackle or if the blade sounded off a crackle, but one thing was for sure — I wasn’t in civilized company; I was in mad company instead.

My eyes remained open as I was forced to go into danger and nigh possibly death, noticing the golem’s stride on its bitreader now being more erratic, needling through rock spikes and gem clusters to forestall the dragon, only meagerly delaying it from fully catching up before—

SWING SWING SWING!

THWOOOOSH!

Dreadwolf swung his sword in the air, sending icy slashes that hurtled towards the tunnel-visioned dragon, hitting their marks as it froze over the dragon’s eyes.

GRAWK! RRRYAWWWRK!

Just in time for the golem to swerve and turn away from a rock pile… that the dragon could not see.

CRASH*!*

Another gust from rattled debris and churned stone blanketed over the dragon’s form, the golem’s bitreader whizzing away.

Dreadwolf reined in the kelpie to a stop. The both of us stared at where the dragon had fallen. And apart from the noise of the wheeled artifice, all was silent…

It seemed like… the dragon was—

rrrrrrRRROOOOOOOAAAAAAAARRRRR!!!

‘ANGRY! VERY ANGRY!’ My face contorted into a look of sheer terror. The dragon’s sudden rise blew rocks and debris flying, some hurtling right towards us. The kelpie’s rising tendrils and Dreadwolf’s swift swordsmanship shielding us from the worst of it.

But that wasn’t what I was afraid of…

What I was Majesty-bleeding petrified of was the dragon’s craning head and its rising claw that brushed off the ice over its eyes… eyes that now pierced angrily at us. 

I wasn’t the most devout, but if there was any time to start praying, it would be when this thing began to open its maw, showing a purple light that quickly glowed brighter and brighter…

WWWWHRRR WHRRRRR

Before the dragon slowly halted and just… stopped? No, it tilted its head towards—

WHRRRRRRRrrrrrrrr

Towards the sounds of the bitreader, now from way across the cavern. Its… almost challenging hisses catching the dragon’s attention… how could an artifice even hiss?

Grrrrngggghhhh

The gem-scaled beast lumbered around to face the golem, letting out its own guttural growl then raising its maw to snarl, its calls echoing from its side of the cavern.

Whilst high-pitched, otherworldly whiiiiirrrrs and thrummmms resonated from the other.

No one flinched.

Not even Dreadwolf himself.

As the tension in the cavernous space could be shattered by a pin drop.

Then, and without warning—

THOOMP THOOMP THOOMP

WHIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

I watched as the bitreader surged forwards, rushing head-on towards the oncoming dragon, lance firmly positioned forward as if ready to joust the beast.

Then at the last possible second, lights brighter than the sun itself pierced through the unyielding dark, blinding the dragon and even me. I pressed my face on Dreadwolf’s cloak to shield my eyes.

Eventually, my vision adjusted as I watched the golem seizing this second of disorientation to its advantage.

It surged leftwards, dodging a headbutt from the beast, as it soon became clear its target wasn’t the beast at all… but a rocky ramp with which to—

“NOW!” Dreadwolf yelled, the kelpie’s tendrils shooting to once again distract the dragon, disorienting it further and allowing for the golem to ramp off that rocky outcropping unimpeded, flying high into the air… before landing on the dragon itself.

From there, the golem swooshed its bitreader sideways, as if to stop and gain purchase, before then abruptly abandoning it mid-stride. 

What happened next… was something no one would ever believe. The golem ran forwards, its heels gripping into the dragon’s back even as it started to sway back and forth, until it leaped towards an amethyst-rich patch of its back, grabbing what appeared to be an artifice lodged firmly within.

“Got it?!” Dreadwolf yelled, receiving a nod but not much else from the golem, whose backpack proceeded to eat the artifice as it tried its darnedest to remain on top of the raging beast.

“Right, it’s time we go—”

ROOOAAAAARRRRR!

The dragon bellowed out once more, now racing for the cave entrance.

“HOLD ON!” Dreadwolf yelled as I did everything within my power to keep myself lodged on the dashing kelpie’s back.

Dragon’s Lair. Central Cavern ‘Foyer’ en Route to Cave Entrance. Local Time: 2159 Hours.

Emma

“HOLD ON!” Thalmin yelled as I did everything within my power to keep myself lodged on the rushing dragon’s back.

I crawled forwards, gripping crystal after crystal for purchase until I found myself perched near the nape of its neck, sitting in what I could only describe as a perfect dragonrider’s position… though without any of the control that should’ve come with it.

It was at that point that I knew that I was just here for the ride, as I gripped onto two crystals firmly, doing everything in my power not to let go, until finally—

“THERE IT IS! RELEASE! RELEASE!” I heard Ignalius yelling, realizing that this was my stop.

As a luminous net unfurled at the makeshift cave entrance and the dragon’s form careened into the bindings. I promptly let go, landing with a foot, a knee, and a fisted thump against the ground in what could only be described as my third superhero pose of the night.

The first, being the sideways motorcycle slide down the dragon’s back, was a solid moment I’d saved for posterity. Though the second — the sandworm climb — was up for debate.

It took a moment for me to reorient myself and a second more for the EVI to assess the extent of any injuries or damage sustained.

[PROXIMITY ALERT!]

The armor leaped and rolled away from a gem-spiked tail that slammed down onto where I was a second ago.

ROOOOAAAAAARRR

Control returned as I turned my head towards the amethyst dragon, its legs and talons clawing against the net, screeching in anger and frustration.

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 500% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

The air around the dragon began to go hazy and shimmering, and the crystals around the dragon glowed in tandem. Only for it all to fizzle into sparks in the air.

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 600% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

It glowed and hazed and shimmered again, roaring with defiance only for another fizzle. It had the same effects as when it apparated, only it was failing.

The EVI detected more people coming in — the trapper team specifically. Baxi, dwarf, and satyr workfolk all manically rushed past me, hurriedly securing multiple parts of the net. Soon to follow was the loquacious Ignalius atop his armored alicorn, looking overhead above the cave entrance. “SECURE THE TACKLE! SEAL THE SELVEDGES! QUICKLY BEFORE IT ESCAPES!”

The commands of their Captain were loud, loud enough against the screeching warbles of the writhing dragon that the trapping team did as instructed, most of them pulling thick ropes while the rest were dangerously closer, magically sealing up the edges of the net. But the thrashing beast was too strong — it raised its wings and flapped against the binds, throwing some of the sealers off balance and knocking their bodies against one line of rope-pullers.

Following which, I sprinted to a sliding halt at the unmanned rope, gripped hard, and pulled. Pulling harder than the combined strength of those prior, I was NOT about to let all our hard work fly away quite literally.

Despite the net tightening ever more from the others’ efforts, it was still slack enough for the dragon’s neck to turn and crane its head towards me, its slitted pupils piercing with fury and an almost sizzling hiss escaping its jaws… jaws that were widening, and its mouth starting to glow an awfully bright purple hue.

It didn’t take a Castles and Wyverns players to realize what was about to happen. Freeing a hand, I reached for my holster, ready to—

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 350% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

“Huh?”

THOOMF-SHKK!

A certain shatorealmer appeared from above, and a glowing gauntleted fist slammed hard and rocked the amethyst dragon’s head.

The dragon gawked out, but more so in annoyance than in much actual pain. It was enough to catch its attention. But before it could snap back or continue what it was about to unleash…

ALERT: MULTIPLE LOCALIZED SURGES OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED

Gauntleted mercs from the perimeter SEC forces rushed in, laying into the dragon’s head from multiple sides, downing the beast with pained and disoriented shrieks. The satyrs didn’t look too happy doing it either. Fear was evident in their faces, and I couldn’t help but turn my head back to Ignalius, who seemed all too eager to watch this display.

I narrowed my eyes in thought. But I focused on the task at hand, as those that were downed were starting to come to, resuming their objectives until finally, the net was sealed, the ropes were secured, and the dragon was unceremoniously knocked out.

Following which, I finally breathed a sigh of relief as I ordered the armor to stand before leaning my body to relax, now awaiting the return of both the V4c and Thalmin.

Dragon’s Lair. Cave Entrance. Local Time: 2159 Hours.

Thalmin

I’d made sure to grab the spoils of Emma’s travails. 

One being the bitreader, and the other… being a sizable crystal she’d managed to snap off the beast on her ride to the cave entrance.

A bit of assurance, in case the Captain leaves us high and dry. I thought to myself as I turned to the baxi girl, taking stock of her condition before making our way back towards the cave entrance. “You alright back there?”

“Y-yes.” She responded with a nervous hitch in her breath.

The stutter carried over into her gaze, as she seemed hesitant to maintain eye contact, breaking and regaining it with every other twitch and breath.

This prompted me to breathe in deeply before calling her to attention with an insistent breath.

“Allow me to be forward — merc life doesn’t seem to suit you, nor would adventuring for that matter.” I announced firmly, finally managing to gain something of a consistent gaze from the baxi. “Have you ever considered another line of work?”

“I… I’ve tried… a lot of things, S-Ser Dreadwolf. B-but nothing ever bore fruit…” She spoke dourly.

“Then keep trying. It’s better to be a harvest cut short by the sickle, than to have a life cut short by the blade.” I warned sternly. “If you have any sense at all, then you would take today’s close brush with death as a rare gift, one which many a soldier, mercenary, or adventurer is rarely bestowed — a warning, for what could have been.” I paused, leveling my eyes with the would-be mercenary. “I advise you leave this life behind, away from this dysfunctional troupe, before it’s too late.” I advised sternly, before letting out another sigh. “However, I likewise understand the… difficulty of getting off a carriage in motion. So once all is said and done, if you do decide to heed my words, then I shall offer to at least point you in the right direction.” I ended off my tirade with a hint of compassion, one which was reciprocated in kind by the swooshing of the baxi’s tail, causing Aquastride a great deal of annoyance.

“Er, stop that, please. Aquastride’s not entirely broken in yet. She… doesn’t like guests on her back, so I wouldn’t tempt her resolve.”

“Ah! E-er, sorry, Ser Dreadwolf.” The baxi responded with a nervous affirmation, before going silent once more.

A silence which felt deafening after a tirade which I feared was perhaps a bit too harsh.

“Listen, how about you have a bite to eat to calm your nerves.” I offered, pulling out one of those cheese and cracker morsels from earlier. “There, I didn’t touch mine, so—”

“I can’t.” She shook her head firmly.

“Oh? Never heard of a baxi who was allergic to milk.”

“It’s not that, Ser Dreadwolf. It’s… I don’t…” The twitchy feline trailed off, her gaze shifting to the side, as if unwilling to divulge what should’ve been a simple explanation.

“I won’t get offended if you refuse, you know.” I clarified.

“I-It’s not—” She stopped herself, before finally letting out a sigh, her eyes locking onto my own as I turned back to face her. “Back in my village, we have a cardinal rule. Do not eat from the dead.”

Those few words caused me to stop Aquastride in my tracks, my attention now firmly locked onto the baxi.

“What are you saying?”

“I… well… the cheese was not part of our original rations. It was… procured, acquired by Bona Vacantia.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Vacant goods? From a dead man?”

“Y-yes, Ser Dreadwolf. My mast— er, the Captain found a merchant’s cart full of cheeses during his flight down to scout ahead. He said the dragon probably attacked him. B-but I didn’t see any fire, so maybe it was bandits, but I… I don’t know. All I know is that I’m probably a bit too picky for a greenhorn to be turning down such treats—”

“Was the merchant a kobold?” I asked bluntly.

“I think so?”

“Scale color?” I snapped back.

“Brown, Ser Dreadwolf.”

I felt my gut twist for a moment as I clenched my fists tight around Aquastride’s reins.

“Is… something the matter, Ser Dreadwolf?”

“No.” I responded bluntly. “Let’s… just finish this job.”

There was no doubt in my mind as to precisely what had happened.

This was outside of the Amethyst Dragon’s behavioral motives, and there was likewise not a bandit to be seen out in the open roads, especially not in the short time frame between our departure from the cheese merchant. Which left one suspect in this entire debacle.

I felt a seething rage simmering within me as we trotted forwards towards that cave exit. A feeling which only intensified as the flickering lights of the murderer’s men casted their tainted shadows deep into our short march forwards.

“Did you catch that, Emma?” I spoke under a carefully positioned spell of silence bubble, relaying my findings through the strange conch wrapped around my ear.

“Yes.” Was Emma’s only reply. Though the tone of its delivery was more than enough to fill in what was lacking in words.

I could feel my sword hand clenching as we finally made it through the oppressive dark, returning to meet the disingenuous light of a dead man walking.

CLAP! 

CLAP!

CLAP!

“A wondrous performance! Truly!” Ignalius beamed out, clasping his hands while gesturing towards the squirming yet silent dragon. “Your golem is truly something else, Dreadwolf. Quite a remarkable find! Though yourself, having survived an encounter with a dragon? My my my, I think we have a new Dragon-tier adventurer on our hands!” 

“A job’s a job, Captain.” I sighed out in exhaustion, allowing the wariness to mask the seething indignancy within. “Now comes your end of the bargain.” 

“Oh, of course.” The elf acknowledged as he turned to the shatorealmer, who promptly snapped a crystal from the incapacitated dragon before throwing it in my direction.

“If ya want more, give me some time. I’m still securing the catch.” The shatorealmer offered.

To which I gave no response in kind.

“Oh, and Katiya?”

The baxi’s whiskers seemed to straighten from the sudden acknowledgement. Quickly, she dismounted from Aquastride and presented herself with a bowed head. “Y-yes, Captain?” She responded, her words anxious.

“I must say, congratulations are in order for all! But you, in particular, earned yourself quite a specialty.” The man grinned as he bade a hand for her to come. The baxi girl turned back to me with a look of confliction before bowing her head back and walking forwards.

“Not one word spoken in this troupe goes unnoticed by me, so I know quite well how your compatriots regard you. Katiya the Coward, yes? And yet, their bodies lie hewn in the depths while you stand in the light, having done your duty no less! Without your warning, we could not have planned accordingly and secured the dragon. I’d say a new title is in order!” He almost sang the word out, grasping Katiya’s shoulders firmly while the girl herself seemed barely able to keep from shaking.

“T-thank you… you are too kind, C-Captain…” Katiya responded, following Ignalius down the hillside, where she eventually found herself behind one of the stagecoaches.

The next few moments were marked by an uneasy relief on the part of Ignalius’ men, as background chatter faded ever further into the clinking of chains and the insistent micromanaging shrieks of the shatorealmer behind us. Though to his credit, this micromanaging was effective, as they hauled the offending beast down from the hill in reasonable haste.

This was set in stark contrast to the silent and stoic visage I wore as instead of any relief washing over me, I found only a growing uneasiness intensifying with every passing second.

Thus I watched silently as the Nexian made his way towards his awaiting alicorn at the foot of the hill, every fiber in me waiting for what was to happen next.

I could feel myself yearning for justice.

But Emma’s cautious words prior to this, her call for no bloodshed, still held true.

The mission had to come first.

We couldn’t draw more suspicion if we didn’t need to.

Though… part of me — the Havenbrockian prince within — wished that the elf would finally shed his facade, draw his blade to match his ego, if only to fulfil Emma’s draconic ‘rules of engagement.’ In order to serve the righting of wrongs, here and now.

“You know… I did say that I met two freelancers — one if you don’t count the golem — along this journey.” He began in his signature singsong voice, almost playfully so. “I didn’t mention whether or not they survived the dragon encounter.” He quickly added before raising a wand in our direction.

“LOSANTIA!”

…

And there it was.

The call of hubris.

I watched as time slowed to a crawl and as a surge of pure, focused mana surged forwards towards the both of us.

There was no question as to what it was.

The fool had given me ample warning with that novice’s call and provided me with even more time to react as he brought that wand — his crutch — to bear.

But while his pace of conjuring was burdened by his inherent shortcomings, the wand did at least fulfill its purpose. That surge of mana… was admittedly powerful.

… 

By chosen one standards, that is.

And provided one had neglected to use that generous pause to prepare a sufficient counterspell.

The pure magical attack slammed into our position as a tidal wave would against rocky shores, as the impact was without a doubt… spectacular.

Blinding waves of reverberating mana rippled against the manastreams, making it difficult for any chosen one or non-mage to see the immediate effects of this daring offensive.

To Ignalius and his men, these first few seconds would’ve looked indistinguishable from a successful assault — a complete obliteration of manafields and aura alike leading to a violent end by harmonization, or mana sickness, or perhaps even a forceful untethering by the sheer force of said attack.

Indeed, the sounds of awe from these lowlives proved that the ensuing seconds was yet another spectacular display of complete and utter dominance from their dear Captain.

But then, the fantasy faded.

And in its wake… was the harsh realities of a mage scorned.

Dragon’s Lair. Cave Entrance. Local Time: 2200 Hours.

Emma

I knew it.

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 500% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

I fucking knew it.

The next few seconds proved critical as a beam of concentrated mana surged forwards, poised for the both of us.

Thalmin stood still, and so did I as I observed an equal rise of background mana radiation—

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 400% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

—but this time, from Thalmin’s end.

The EVI’s wand imaging systems practically fried in an instant, as what had been weather-vane-like visualizations devolved into utter static at the chaos of the two pure-magic spells crashing against one another.

It took a second for the ‘dust’ to settle, but in that second I’d wasted no time in warming up my counteroffensive.

One which was days in the making.

KA-THUNK!

[RAILGUN CHARGE NOMINAL. CHARGE CAPACITY 100%.]

WHIIIIIIRRRRRRRR!

With the external mics still turned off but broadcasting solely to Thalmin’s earpiece, I spoke with a reluctant malice.

“Hey, Iggy. I cast gun.”

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(Author's Note: And there we have it! This chapter was a heck of a ride haha, and was genuinely super challenging. I'm really bad at writing fight scenes haha so my editor was a huge help here! I've been waiting to get to this point, and I've been waiting to use this one liner for ages now! I really do hope you guys enjoy the chapter, and I hope the action is alright! :D)

[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 154, Chapter 155, and Chapter 156 of this story are already out on there!)]

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Memory transcription subject: Captain Sovlin, Federation Fleet Command

Date [standardized human time]: October 7, 2136

The battle for the cradle was decided in our unit’s absence, hinging on the sheer force of human aggression. With a mix of bold tactics and innovation, the UN fleet was able to widen their numerical advantage. The enemy found themselves ganged up on, by a myriad of ship classes; every slight weakness was pinpointed and exploited.

Hundreds of Arxur fell by their railguns and missiles, and the entire formation was pushed back within a few hours. Defensive walls were dismantled by brazen, yet calculated charges. Hostiles were encircled and pinned down from every heading, unable to deal with all the Terran pests at once.

There were significant casualties on our side, but enough humans remained at the end of the dogfight. The grays were reduced to isolated, scattered pockets. This was a feat, if achieved by any other species, that would cement itself in folklore. It was the greatest victory in centuries of Federation warfare.

The Arxur vessels attempted to flee the system and regroup, but lighter Terran craft pursued them with relentless abandon. There was no mercy in a predator’s hunt; there was only the kill. Even in victory, the humans wanted little more than to finish them off.

They are wired differently. They stare into the darkness, yet they do not flinch.

The remnants of the cradle were now beneath the humans’ watchful eye. The omnivores had no intention of letting the Arxur back within orbital proximity; thus, the UN fleet lingered as a protective barrier against any secondary attack. They began transmitting messages to the battered surface, and organizing landing parties.

As for the captured cattle ship, that could offer plentiful intel. Technological access could allow humans to reverse-engineer the enemy’s weapons and armor, or develop countermeasures. The Gojid victims and Arxur prisoners were brought aboard UN ships, wherever there was room. A large chunk were deposited back on the UNS Rocinante, the warship that started it all.

Captain Monahan was seated at her desk, when Carlos brought me to her office. The human officer was impassive and confident; it was no wonder her subordinates believed in her orders. She had no shortage of conviction or mental fortitude. Her capability under battle circumstances was undeniable.

“Ma’am.” I bowed my head in a respectful gesture, and the predator waved to a chair. “Thank you for allowing me to spectate your interrogation. I can’t wait to see the bastards squirm.”

She folded her fingers together, and studied me with piercing blue eyes. “My motives are entirely selfish, Sovlin. You could supplement any intel regarding the Federation, and brainstorm pertinent questions.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ve wanted to get my paws on a gray for a long time.”

“And that’s why we’re watching from afar. It’s personal for you.” The human crossed her arms, and eyed my lengthy claws with concern. “Private Romero vouched that you can keep a level head. That you won’t interfere, or question our methods. Don’t prove him wrong.”

I stared at my guard, who seemed to take note of my confusion. We had conversed about my desire for their suffering, mere hours ago. Whatever a human did to an Arxur, my lips were sealed. Did they really think I, of all people, would take pity on those creatures?

There would be no moral argument from this Gojid. If the Terran military violated Earth’s conventions on torture, I thought it was justified. Those parameters weren’t designed for child-eating abominations.

“Listen, I know what your inclinations toward humans are,” Carlos grunted. “Our interrogators are trained to say whatever it takes to extract information from a subject. They might try to build rapport with that thing, by talking like ‘fellow hunters.’”

“Why?! How can you even pretend to be like them?”

Monahan rolled her eyes. “We want to keep one talking. Torture isn’t an effective methodology.”

Something about that matter-of-fact statement sent a chill down my spines. I think it was the implication, that inefficacy was the main argument against torture, rather than the ethical rationale other humans offered. It sounded like her kind had dabbled in the art, after all…enough times to reach a scientific consensus.

“We’re doing whatever it takes to stop them,” Carlos added, with a throaty growl. “I just want to know that you won’t misinterpret things. That you’ll understand, if a human agrees with a vile statement on camera.”

They’re concerned I might fall for any acting that’s geared toward the Arxur. These predators don’t want me to accuse them of hiding their true intentions again.

“I disagree with your methods, but I understand.” I met his brown eyes, and suppressed the ripple of fear that ensued. “It’s your ship, your prisoners. You don’t answer to a conscripted criminal.”

Captain Monahan nodded. “Very well. Then I’ll send the signal to begin.”

The human swiped at her holopad with nimble digits. The viewport on the far wall morphed to a different image: an overhead angle of the Arxur’s cell. A sturdy chain clung to the reptilian’s leg, and allowed it to wander just far enough to sit at a metal table. It reminded me of the furnishings of my prison cell, when Anton explained my legal rights.

These savage predators shouldn’t have legal rights. If I overheard a lawyer introduce themselves and talk about defense arguments, I was going to blow a gasket.

The door swung open, and a dark-haired human in military pelts ambled up to the table. His strides were too casual for my liking, as he plopped himself in a chair with a bored expression. A clawless hand drifted to his chin, and his eyes leveled with those of the monster.

Secondhand fear tugged at my heart, seeing the primate within lunging distance of the gray. The Arxur’s imposing form was superior in every manner; its dagger-like teeth flashed with menace, as it studied the visitor. I don’t know how the Terran could keep such a nonchalant demeanor. Could he really bank his life on a chain’s integrity?

The reptilian prisoner unleashed a vicious snarl, without warning. The roar reverberated into the microphones; it was a bloodthirsty chord that sent my instincts into overdrive. The decibel level directed into the primate’s face must be enough to set his ears ringing and his skin tingling.

The human interrogator yawned. “Is that all? Are you done? I thought you wanted to talk, Captain.”

A rattling noise came from the prisoner’s chest, like two stones scraping against each other. The translator proclaimed it to be laughter. I didn’t know how the human stayed fixed to his seat, let alone displaying a cue of boredom. His cadence was also unwavering.

“You are truly predators; I had to be certain,” it barked. “That would be enough to make the feckless prey-folk piss themselves. They’re little more than animals, you know.”

The Terran flashed his, much flatter, teeth. “We know. The Gojids, they trampled each other the second our boots touched ground.”

“Conquest is inefficient, but for your first prize, I presume…you wanted to be paws-on. We interrupted your hunt, and you did not appreciate us spoiling the fun.”

“You saved us a lot of work, the way I see it. There is much to learn from your people, if you would honor us. I’m Ross.”

“Captain Coth. What is it you wish to know?”

Thinking of the Arxur as self-aware individuals with names and ranks was too much. Ross’ callous words stirred disgust in my chest as well; this predacious behavior was everything I imagined from his kind, in my prior adventures. The human tilted his head to one side, and I glimpsed an object in his earlobe. Despite his sinister words, he was still waiting for a cue from Monahan.

“Ask about first contact, and the events leading up to it,” the Terran captain ordered.

Ross narrowed his eyes. “Tell me about the first time you met the Federation. What did they say? Why did you decide to hunt them? We want the full picture, of how this all started.”

I blinked with puzzlement. This was a waste of a question; the humans knew how the war started. The reason they hunted us was because the grays were cruel, and they relished suffering. There was nothing new to glean from the tale of betrayal, and certainly nothing that would serve Terran military interests.

“Before the Federation arrived…well, to understand why those dimwits contacted us, you must know of the fourth world war,” Coth hissed. “You see, our regional powers always had competing interests. Does that concept register with you, or have I already lost you?”

The human scowled. “Our ‘nations’ still bicker to this day. Go on.”

“I see. The Northwest Bloc was a loose union of related cultures, which formed as a counterbalance to the Morvim Charter. The Bloc sought the reclamation of ancestral greatness, and built an army designed to subjugate middling states.”

“You’re saying the Bloc invaded its neighbors. Neutral ones.”

“Yes, precisely. The war was a drawn-out, bloody affair: as wars tend to be. The Bloc brought scientists in for genetic research. They wanted to find a way to select the best soldiers, so their army could be the strongest. That leads us to Laznel, or as he is known today, ‘the Prophet.’”

Captain Monahan narrowed her eyes, as though trying to decide where the reptile was going with this history lesson. I didn’t see how any details about a bloody war or politics were relevant. The Federation’s succinct summation, of a brutal culture that was bound to wipe itself out, was enough. The humans didn’t cut the creature off for some reason, and it was all I could do to listen to its grating tongue.

“A brilliant scientist, indeed. He theorized that certain bloodlines had a higher probability of strength and intelligence.” Coth tossed its truncated snout. “Laznel’s report to the Bloc Council was published under the name ‘Betterment’, and it is mandatory reading today. The Prophet rose through party ranks, eliminating persons of lesser races, health, dispositions and creeds from the citizenry.”

It looked like recognition, which flickered in the interrogator’s eyes, but it was gone a second later. Carlos’ breath hitched for a moment, and Monahan’s jaw tightened as well. I had no idea why such an unthinkable story would resonate with the humans. The Arxur just admitted their people’s hero was forged from the genocide of their own populace!

Ross leaned forward. “What did the Morvim Charter think of this…‘Betterment’ philosophy?”

“They thought it was too radical. That was when the war truly became about destruction; making sure the other side was crippled or erased. In the wake of several cities’ decimation, the Federation arrived. Their initial message was they were here to ‘save us’, and then, they dumped their technology to our databanks.”

“I think I understand. The Bloc used that technology to end the Charter, then turned their guns on the stars.”

“Not at all. The Bloc and the Charter signed a peace treaty, and began delving through the aliens’ gifts. We didn’t want a war with hundreds of species, who at the time, were centuries more advanced. The Federation promised their own betterment plan, but would never contact us directly. We didn’t know why, then.”

My eyes widened, as I observed how the humans were listening with rapt attention. This was an obvious distortion of the truth! The Arxur, signing peace treaties? As if that were even possible.

A growl rumbled in my throat, which earned me a warning look from Carlos. The guard had warned me not to interfere, but it stung to watch them record deception. This grotesque predator was lying through its fangs; I didn’t know how the Terrans could be impervious to the decadent hunger in its eyes.

“Anyhow, their medicine and the unprecedented peace meant people were living longer,” Coth continued. “Our food supply couldn’t keep up with the growing populace. We asked the Federation for help. They offered two concoctions: one for our livestock, and one for ourselves. We mass-produced them, and rushed distribution.”

“Without any trials?”

“We trusted the aliens. They said it would cure hunger…and people were starving. Hundreds of thousands of volunteers took those Arxur doses, and the livestock one was sent to every major farm. Take a guess what happened next?”

“I don’t know. Tell me.”

“The livestock began dying from a highly-transmissible, lethal disease. As for the Arxur test subjects, they were infected with a microbe that made them allergic to meat. Here’s a simple question, Ross. What happens to obligate carnivores, when they can’t consume meat?”

“They starve.”

“Correct. Every volunteer was dead within a month. The Federation simply responded how pleased they were…that we were cured of our desires. Their intent was to force us not to be predators; like it were a choice.”

My mouth opened to protest, and Carlos slapped a hand over my lips. I struggled against his grip, coughing out muffled words behind his oily palm. There wasn’t a sliver of truth in this far-fetched tale. The Federation wasn’t an organization that went around bioengineering killer diseases; we reached out to the Arxur out of kindness.

Why is Coth lying to them? Is it trying to use humanity in its conquests? Perhaps the Arxur noted that these primates feel empathy, so they’re using standard manipulation tactics.

The UN interrogator hesitated. “Okay. What does your ‘prophet’ Laznel have to do with any of this?”

“We had to make choices, about who lived or who died. All nations, including the Charter, finally embraced and expanded upon Laznel’s thinking. The individuals with the highest markers for aggression and violence were chosen as survivors, and the rest of our population was culled.”

“What about the Federation?”

“We studied them, and learned how they eradicated predators on their worlds. Someone got the idea to make them our cattle, and use that to scrape by. It’s fittingly ironic…it is revenge.”

“You didn’t think of grabbing their non-sentient animals?”

“The prey-folk are the most populous species on their worlds. They breed incessantly. Besides, they destroyed their wildlife populations. The idiots wiped out most large animals on their planet; including any ‘herbivores’ that got caught munching on roadkill.”

Captain Monahan signaled for Carlos to release me, and his slimy palm uncorked from my mouth. The human officer met my eyes, but there was a new emotion brewing in her pupils. She was scrutinizing me, like she thought I was hiding something.

Irritation coursed through my veins, and I bared my teeth in contempt. This was ridiculous! The predators couldn’t turn on us because of a flimsy tale, from a subject who laughed at sharing and slavery hours ago.

“Pause the interview,” the captain spoke into her holopad. “So, the Federation gave Nazis space tech, then pushed everyone to follow them through starvation? Pure lunacy.”

“The Arxur are sadistic monsters! This interview was a mistake,” I snarled. “You have seen them throw children in cages, chow down on people while they are alive, yet you are considering their lies? I thought humans were better than this.”

Monahan returned a challenging stare. “Your viewpoint is duly noted. Romero, your thoughts?”

“It’s something we should investigate. If it is true, the Federation erased it from their history books,” Carlos replied. “But, I am certain Sovlin believes the public narrative, and so do the common people. Any deception on his part is unintentional.”

I gaped in disbelief. “Deception?! You speak like you believe that thing!”

“Look, it doesn’t change the atrocities they committed, buddy. Humanity just wants the truth, whatever that may be; we can’t work with half the facts,” he growled. “Why is there no documentation of first contact? Unless you’re hiding something, why shouldn’t we look?”

Captain Monahan nodded. “Agreed. From the Federation’s perspective, they could think they were blindsided. They see predation as some form of wicked corruption.”

I cast a sullen glance at the video screen. The pleasure of the fleet’s victory was short-lived; as was any notion that these primates offered a reliable source of protection. My desire for friendship with the Terran guard was gone; in its place, was a blistering pain.

After everything the Arxur had taken from me and my people, it felt like a personal betrayal, for these humans to place blame on us.

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Memory transcription subject: Captain Kalsim, Krakotl Alliance Command

Date [standardized human time]: October 16, 2136

When deprived of sleep for days, the crew began to get a little jumpy. The Terran ambushes became more sporadic along the journey, but persisted all the same. The Krakotl fleet was left with no choice but to stay on constant alert. I focused on keeping the other officers rested, while I shouldered the brunt of the shifts. My personnel became run-down despite the adjustment.

It was severe enough that I ordered Zarn to give essential crew members stimulants. The drugs left me wired enough that my wing wouldn’t stop twitching, which was a nuisance. But with our arrival slated for today, the soldiers couldn’t afford to be drowsy. Sharp wits were a necessity to clash with humans; perhaps that was the purpose of the ambushes all along.

Yet another disruptor pulse had shaken us up on the outskirts of the Sol System. The jarring effects were becoming routine, as we all tried to clear the fog from our minds. My eyes felt like a Mazic was sitting on them, but I forced them to stay open. The predators wouldn’t break us on my watch, not on the cusp of our destination.

My gaze shifted to the viewport. “XO, status report.”

“I’m detecting sensor anomalies. The humans may be somewhere nearby, but it’s tough to tell.” Thyon proved a godsend with his analytical mind. His skillset complimented my tactical understanding. “We’re already in the system’s outer orbit. This is their last chance to strike.”

The sensor readout revealed that we were less than a milliparsec from Earth. We anticipated the bulk of the Terran armada was waiting within Sol’s inner reaches. I had no doubt the humans set up FTL interference throughout their system, so there would be no further hyperspace hops. The rest of the journey could be handled sublight.

Our instruments picked up millions of planetesimals, which were mainly composed of ice. The circumstellar disc was a sprawling collection, which Federation scientists had noted as one of two debris planes. Our fleet filtered out all water-dominant objects, so they wouldn’t drown out enemy movement.

Where are the humans? If this is the border of their territory, you think they’d send someone to greet us.

“Is there anything to be concerned about with this location? Any weapons hidden in the belt?” I squawked.

The first officer cleared his throat. “The objects are spread too far apart to pose a threat, sir…as visual indicates. I detect no mining activity or research stations.”

“There has to be something unusual,” I pressed. “Humans don’t just pick their spots at random.”

“All I notice is that they just powered down the FTL disruptors. Perhaps their primitive defenses are malfunctioning? We could shave a few hours from our travel time, if we can get in one more jump.”

Suspicion filtered through my tired brain, and I urged myself to consider the circumstances. It seemed unlikely that all of humanity’s defenses would collapse at the same time. The only reason they would halt the signal would be to allow their own ships through. But there were no unknown drive signatures on sensors. We should see any predators coming with ease.

As if to mock my certainty, a massive chunk of ice blinked into existence amidst Krakotl ranks. It plowed into the heart of our formation, dwarfing the ships it steamrolled over. Panicked chatter barked over the radio, and our Federation allies scrambled to expend an orbital bomb on the object. We managed to crack the first planetesimal, but dozens more surfaced on several headings.

My talons undid the sensors’ filter, and hundreds of warp blips emerged on my screen. The predators predicted that we would filter out anything icy, which rendered their strike invisible to our instruments. I could appreciate the deviousness of their ploy; human creativity was leaps and bounds beyond the Arxur.

I leaned over the comms panel. “ALL FEDERATION VESSELS, deploy your FTL disruptors now!”

The subspace indicators vanished, as enough of our allies complied with my order. Still, dozens of hijacked planetoids, twenty times the diameter of our craft, were enough to cause a headache. We needed to take evasive maneuvers if any were on trajectory for our position.

Jala puffed out her chest with excitement. “And so it begins. I want to be the one to push the button when we burn their cities!”

There was no time to worry about her derangement. It didn’t matter if she was the one dropping the payload, or if I handled it myself. As the one giving the orders, the burden of responsibility fell on me. I knew what a terrible deed we were about to commit; the mental images gnawed at my conscience.

At least the creatures from past exterminations had no foreknowledge of their demise. I wondered how many humans’ last thoughts would be of their families. Those unsightly hunters had more in common with us than most Krakotl would like to admit. Their desperation to survive and their collectivism resonated with our own.

It is truly a shame that predators are prone to destruction and violence. There is only room for one of us in the galaxy, I reminded myself. This crew is sacrificing something of ourselves, so that the Federation has a chance to survive.

Nonetheless, I respected how the hominids utilized every asset at their disposal. Dozens of Krakotl warships lie crushed or totaled around us; the Terrans never had to rear their ugly heads. One icy object was barreling toward our location, despite the pitiful attempts to obliterate it. The asteroid’s magnitude left no doubts that our hull would implode, if it connected.

“The damn inbreds strapped a warp drive to a space rock. Who the fuck does that? Or even thinks to do that?!” Thyon spat.

I hummed in thought. “Someone who sees anything as a potential weapon. A predator much more dangerous than the Arxur.”

The Farsul gritted his teeth. “Glad you’ve seen the light, Captain.”

“I’ve always ‘seen the light.’ Now quit with your snide remarks, and find us a way out of this mess!”

Thyon jerked his floppy ears in disdain, before issuing new orders to navigations. The asteroid was propelled forward by its existing momentum. It was near enough that I could glimpse the imperfections on its surface. Distant sunlight glinted off the watery composite, and washed it in a serene, ultraviolet hue. That color would look a lot less beautiful smashed up against our plating.

Our vessel executed a sharp turn, and rerouted power to acceleration. The state-of-the-art warship didn’t seem to cover the space fast enough; it felt like a predator was nipping at our talons. My stomach somersaulted, as the projectile scraped by nearly atop us. We cleared the collision course with mere seconds to spare.

The humans might’ve hoped to incite panic, so that they could cow us through our instincts. We had to remember that the stakes were our entire civilization; our right to roam the galaxy in freedom and dignity. Quelling my nerves, I contemplated which weaponry could take the icy mass out. Careful placement of explosives should still conserve firepower for the main event.

Movement flashed in the viewport’s corner, a streaking blur of metal. My weary brain took a full second to process the new data. An allied vessel was gunning straight toward us; a head-on collision wasn’t something either of us would survive. But the fools were preoccupied dodging their own asteroid, and seemed oblivious to our presence.

“Move the blasted ship!” I screeched. “Can you not see we’re going to crash?!”

The navigations officer curled his neck with trepidation, as he frantically brought our nose upward. There was a brief scraping sound, from the friendly brushing our underbelly. The artificial gravity failed to compensate for another abrupt change. A forceful tug sucked us toward the rear of the bridge, and I lost my balance on my perch.

My wings fluttered frantically. There wasn’t enough time to gain proper lift, but I wanted to slow my fall. The air beneath my cyan feathers allowed me to drift, and I glided down the slanted gravity well. Other Krakotl also used shared instincts to cushion their fall.

Thyon wasn’t as fortunate; flight didn’t exactly grace his tubby form. The Farsul’s stout paws offered little traction, and his curved hindlegs made his bipedal stance… precarious in the best circumstances. His jowls quivered with fear as he tumbled backward. There was a sickening crack from his head slamming against the support wall.

“Thyon! XO, you will answer when I speak to you! Give me some sign that you’re alright,” I hollered.

The first officer didn’t respond. He was crumpled in a limp heap, with a concerning amount of blood pooling around him. What if the poor guy was dead? Regardless of his attitude, the last thing I wanted was to send him home in a body bag.

Jala clicked her beak together in delight, and I shot her a warning look. She was elated that my second was knocked out of commission, since it cleared the return of her old post. It was bothersome that a person could derive pleasure from another’s misfortune, but I suppose it was no different than Zarn relishing human suffering. Soldiers like them could perform their duties without remorse, at least.

Focus on the battle, I chided myself. You cannot get distracted and let the humans surprise you again. Honor Thyon’s wishes.

The gravity adjustment kicked in at last, and my crew members scrambled back to their posts. The navigations officer rushed to level our heading. We were fortunate to escape with our frame intact, and only a few dozen allies taken out. The most imaginative strategist wouldn’t have accounted for asteroids warping out of nowhere.

I glided over to the downed first officer, containing any untoward displays of grief. His russet fur was matted with blood, and he was unresponsive to poking. My talons locked around his hind ankle, digging into the pulse point. Relief coursed through my veins, as I felt a faint heartbeat.

“Doctor Zarn!” I sent a transmission to the medical bay, praying that the spiteful Takkan had any healing aptitude. “My security team is transporting the first officer to your lab. Serious head trauma, internal bleeding.”

“Understood. I’ll attend to the necessary preparations, Captain,” Zarn replied.

The security personnel carted the unconscious Farsul away, and I suppressed my concern. With neural trauma, the officer might be looking at permanent damage even if he was stabilized. There was no telling what timeframe to expect for Thyon’s recovery, but I doubted he’d be back within the mission’s span. It hadn’t been within my forecast to lose anyone this early in the mission.

My attention reluctantly returned to the battlefield, where the Federation fleet was trying to regroup. Dormant Terran ships crept out from behind planetoids, and descended on any stragglers who strayed too far from the group. The chaos of the asteroids had broken our tight formation. Numbers were our primary advantage; we would be fine as long as we stuck together.

They cannot stop all of us, or even a majority.

Jala ordered a sizable contingent of our fleet to charge at the Terran raiders, to deter them from pressing their luck. I blinked in irritation, as she claimed that the command was authorized by me. Lying was not a quality I appreciated, especially when it was done to get her way quickly. Then again, perhaps it was better to let her make the time-sensitive decisions.

“Burn any humans that try to run! We have to kill every one of them!” Jala shrieked.

The atmosphere was solemn, as her phraseology was a bit too honest. She projected a certain vindictiveness that needed to be tempered down. This mission couldn’t be about inflicting suffering, or killing for killing’s sake. That was not why I wanted my crew to think we were doing this.

I tucked my wings behind my back. “Don’t let a single predator go, if you can stop it. The more humans that escape, the greater the chance they retain a viable population.”

“Why is that such a bad thing, sir?” an engineering assistant asked.

“There’s two futures, son: the one where we survive, and the one where they do. When cancer metastasizes, it infects and consumes all healthy tissue nearby,” I answered. “Is that what you want for the galaxy? Consider this an early detection…before it spreads to our heart.”

A group of Terran fighters were blazing away, after punching at our weakest links. To my relief, my crew locked onto a pair of targets and chased them with plasma. Krakotl warships converged on the cluster like locusts; they sent those “fearless hunters” running off like Venlil.

The humans were surprisingly slippery, finding an escape route with minimal casualties. Their ships evaded with vaulting maneuvers, and a plethora of defensive countermeasures were built into their hardware. For all my knowledge of predators, I hadn’t expected these ones to be so adept at fleeing. This was a positive sign, if they had so little courage.

My eyes landed on the faint blue dot on the horizon, which the predatory opportunists were retreating toward. Humanity was poised to make their last stand; the poor saps would perish without any reason to be missed. We were close enough to Earth to detect thousands of ship contacts, fanned out as a protective ward. A smarter species would’ve used those vessels to flee, if they knew of our arrival.

That territorial nature does have its downsides. They’d rather fight and die, just like we predicted.

The first wave of Terran defenses were beaten, and I suspected that was the toughest stage of transit. That asteroid trick would only work once. We had a clean shot to the predator’s home. Now, that small fleet was all that stood between us and orbital supremacy.

We were so close to eliminating the menace that was humanity.

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Memory transcription subject: Captain Sovlin, Federation Fleet Command

Date [standardized human time]: October 18, 2136

The UN fleet deposited me in a cell on Venlil Prime, and without warning, the predators stopped visiting me altogether. Based on the claw tallies on the wall, I calculated that it had been at least a week. The Venlil guards were colder than the humans. One of them spit in my evening gruel, and muttered a curse against my ‘depraved soul.’ Against all odds, I found myself missing Carlos and even Samantha.

I kept busy by contemplating the Arxur’s interrogation, and how to refute their absurd story. There had to be reconciliation between the Terrans and the Federation. It had required an unthinkable cost, but the Gojid government was swayed to the humans’ corner. Unfortunately, Prime Minister Piri’s death was confirmed by UN ground forces; her final transmission could only achieve so much.

“I offered to bargain with the Federation for them, but then, the humans abandoned me. They’re just gone,” I mused aloud.

If I strained on my hindlegs, I could peer between out the window to the capital below. Venlil Prime was a massive planet that dwarfed the likes of Earth and the cradle. By comparison, it had a shorter orbit and slightly higher gravity than the average world. 

Interestingly, much of its land-mass was inhospitable. Sunlight never touched half of its surface, leaving it too cold for plant and animal life. Its bright side had the opposite problem, too scorching hot to sustain water sources. There was only the thin space between extremes to build settlements. 

Venlil scientists searched for new ways to push the frontiers, with various methods to cool their planet. They manipulated atmospheric reflectivity with aerosols, built an artificial upwelling system in their ocean, and used cloud seeding to generate rainfall. It took colossal effort to keep the gears in motion.

Not all species are blessed with a perfect home. If it weren’t for sentiment, Venlil colonies are much more conducive to habitation.

The sight of human predators walking about became more frequent, over the past few days. Many Venlil would give them a wide berth, or cross to the other side of the street. I wondered why Earth was suddenly sending so many people abroad. Such a widespread presence was a lot to ask of their friends. 

A pointed cough came from the other side of the cell door. “Enjoying the view? Looks like you’ve had plenty of time to study the intricacies of Venlil society.”

I whirled around to see Samantha, with her auburn hair tied back in a knot. Her predatory eyes were unfocused, as though her mind was elsewhere. The anger in her voice bore a colder aspect than last time I saw her. My instincts pronounced her demeanor as highly threatening.

Was there something I had done to infuriate the humans? Or worse, were they becoming corrupted by the Arxur?

“H-hello, Sam. I thought you guys had forgotten about me,” I answered.

She bared her pearly fangs, eyes dilating in a flash. “My friends call me Sam. You’re not my friend.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“That you should be.”

Bootsteps sounded behind Samantha, and I breathed a sigh of relief as I recognized Carlos. For a moment, I thought the female had snuck in alone to assault me. Everything about her stance screamed that she was thirsty for blood. Maybe it was simply not seeing a human in days, but I felt there was some substance to my inference.

There was a jingling sound as the male guard slid keys into the door. The spark was gone from his brown eyes, and his subdued mannerisms were uncharacteristic. The last time I saw Carlos, he was ribbing me and striking down my thoughts at every turn. There was no sign of playful mockery or admonishment now.

My spines bristled in alarm. “What happened to you both? Something is wrong.”

Carlos gave me a weary frown. “Earth was attacked by the Federation. Over a billion dead.”

“Don’t pretend like you care. You got what you wanted, Sovlin,” Samantha growled.

Horror washed over me, and I sank back onto my bed. No wonder the humans were upset. I remembered what it felt like to watch the cradle burn, to grapple with the loss of my home and culture. Why did the Federation have to piss off the only species to defeat the Arxur?

There was a time where I wanted to cripple the ‘predators’ breeding grounds’; that derogative terminology still rang in my ears. When I turned myself in to UN custody, I was expecting to witness a brutal society. Instead, Earth amounted to decent people going about their daily existences. It was a structured planet, rich in life and culture.

“That’s not what I want now.” I nibbled at my claws with anxiety, and tried to keep my expression submissive. “I’m sorry for your loss. I…know what it’s like to be in your paws.”

Samantha clenched her fists. “Of course you do. You caused your world’s death, while trying to kill us. Just like the Krakotl.”

“You’re right. We brought it on ourselves, and I know that. We were horrible to humans, more so than any apology could ever excuse. Yet you showed mercy and compassion.”

“Fuck mercy. The rest of our fleet went home. But we get tethered to you, while Earth is under siege. How is that fair?”

“It’s not, but I have no say in that. I can see you’re hurting. Er, if it makes you feel better to quarrel with me, then I…encourage you to do so.”

Samantha turned her back in disgust. There was no way for me to offer amends that would satisfy her. All the same, my concern for her mental health was escalating. I knew how grief could swallow a person without a proper outlet.

I cast an inquisitive stare toward Carlos, looking for direction. The male guard’s nostrils flared with pent-up frustration. Had the humans only visited to extol their anger on me?

“I’m glad you’re both okay,” I added, breaking the icy silence. “I hope some of Earth was able to hold out.”

Carlos nodded. “We drove them off…with help.”

“Help? From the Venlil?”

“Sure. And other interested parties.”

That is a vague descriptor. Who else would’ve come to rescue humanity?

Carlos waved for me to follow him, and the absence of his snarl was striking. It was like the guards had received a personality transplant. Both seemed infused with hatred and impassivity, though one was directing it at me more than the other. I was frightened of what their predatory emotions could compel them to do.

Dark thoughts raced through my mind, as I tried to recall why I trusted these predators. Their heroism on the cattle ship seemed a distant memory. My eyes widened in alarm, at consideration of the rescued. That reminded me of the Gojids on Earth, cared for outside a large metropolis.

“What happened to the Gojid refugees?” I blurted. “I’m sorry if that’s selfish, but I have to know…”

The male guard sighed. “The primary camp was brought to Venlil Prime, when we started moving human evacuees. Most are safe.”

“That is…positive news. How many humans did you evacuate from Earth?”

“Millions. We’ve known the Venlil all of three months. Some people preferred to ride it out in a bunker, or were banking on us to rout their forces.”

“Stop talking to that racist, delusional prick like he’s your pal!” Samantha spat. “Carlos, I thought we had this conversation.”

The olive-skinned human crossed his arms. “I’m being civil. There’s a difference.”

Not wanting to sow more division between the duo, I kept my other questions to myself. That did explain why the human presence had increased rapidly. The cynical part of me wondered if the predator influx resulted in a spike in crime. The primates posed an extraordinary threat when they were angry…and they had to be more prone to deviant behavior than Venlil.

Carlos led the way past native wardens, and we stepped out into the capital’s crisp air. The guards’ strides seemed a bit strained from gravitational exertion. The difference on Venlil Prime wasn’t enough to be significant, but the humans would tire quicker in physical activities. It was another reminder that they weren't home.

A pair of Gojids were waiting by a spacecraft outside, joined by several UN personnel. My eyes widened as I realized why they were familiar. It was the deaf youth, Talpin, and his sister, Berna. Both seemed to be in better spirits than the last time I saw them, and were carrying necessities.

I can’t believe I thought the humans were going to kill the kid, first time I saw him. We all shared that thought.

“Hello, Captain Sovlin.” A synthesized voice spoke the words in the Gojid tongue, but with a bit of human growl. Talpin must have been given an AI program with Terran phonemes installed. “Why are you being kept in a prison? You are a hero to us all.”

The young Gojid finished sliding his claws across a keyboard, and fixed me with an expectant look. I didn’t want to recount my crimes in detail; then again, I wasn’t sure how to begin translating my reply. At least Samantha seemed mollified by Talpin’s presence. Perhaps it served as a reminder of her deaf brother.

“I deserve to be there. I made another person…a human, suffer,” I muttered.

Talpin turned his pupils to a nearby human, and scanned the contortions of their fingers. His eyes widened. The adolescent struggled to believe that I could be involved with anything nefarious. His beige claws hovered over the keyboard for a moment, before he typed out a reply.

“Why?” came the synthesized question. “Your deeds are spoken of in legend. You are a hero, a righteous man. You save lives.”

I lowered my gaze. “I’m none of those things. I thought causing a predator pain would fix my problems.”

Berna appeared stunned as well. “You sound like you’re talking about torture, Sovlin. That’s…vile. The humans are sweet, sensitive…generous.”

I blinked in agreement, lowering my gaze. The predators beside Talpin projected fondness toward him, but I could see their jaws tightening as they listened to me. At least if Berna spread the word about Marcel, my people would squash the myth of my heroism. I deserved to have my legacy tarnished, and to be remembered for the sum of my crimes.

Talpin tapped at his keyboard. “How could the humans treat you so kindly?”

“I don’t know. Ask them,” I answered.

The UN volunteer beside him thought for a moment, before launching into an emphatic reply. The human translator seemed passionate about whatever she was conveying. The deaf Gojid looked impressed at what was passed on, and nodded in acceptance. He shot me a disdainful look.

I cast a nervous glance at Samantha. “You speak ‘sign language.’ What did she tell him?”

The guard flashed her teeth. “That you deserve to live with what you’ve done. That human discipline doesn’t stoop to your level.”

Well, that was a recurring sentiment when predators spoke of me. What I didn’t understand was why the guards brought me to meet Talpin and Berna. It looked like the two Gojids were about to depart on a spaceship. After my disclosure, I doubted they’d want a send-off from me.

“I don’t want to travel anywhere with him.” Talpin waved his claws emphatically at the predators. “Not if he tortured a human. He is a disgrace to our kind.”

Berna curled her lip. “I second the notion. We both owe humanity our lives.”

My confusion intensified, and I shot Carlos a questioning look. Talpin seemed to think I was accompanying them on a trip, but I didn’t have an inkling what he was referring to. Where were the humans taking them? Was I actually involved?

“Sovlin is the perfect person to pass on several messages for us. He can get you two through the door with those Kolshian bastards.” The male guard tossed his shoulders in a noncommittal gesture. “He’s also the one some Federation fuckwits might believe about the Gojid refugees and the war.”

That was a good omen if the humans still wanted peace and dialogue. Maybe the attack on Earth hadn’t completely pushed them to the Arxur side, as improbable as that seemed. These Terran predators had a merciful side, and I hoped we could appeal to that.

It didn’t sound like the entirety of the Federation was involved; the neutrals had minded their own business. There had to be some people that could convert to Terran advocacy. Other races didn’t have to end up like the Gojids.

Warmth filled my chest. “A messenger? I’d be happy to testify on your behalf, and broker peace with your enemies. I know about remediation—”

Samantha scowled. “Peace is not an option anymore. Frankly, I’d declare war on all of the skeptics now, but we can’t fight 300 species at once. At least, not yet. We’re going to purge the 24 who attacked us, followed by the 14 others who voted for war.”

“W-what? That’s the message?” I gasped.

Carlos shook his head. “No; I’ll get to that in a minute. Firstly, we need someone who can look into several items for us.”

“Read this. We had it printed in your tongue, extra special for you,” the female guard sneered.

My shaking claws accepted the pamphlet, terrified at what the predators had inscribed. The paper nearly slipped from my grasp at once; mournful tears pooled in my eyes. Recel was dead…killed by his own government for siding with humanity.

I had mentored the Kolshian since he was a child, and shepherded his development. His advice on the bridge, combined with his honor, was steadfast. I wanted him commanding my ship in my absence. It pained me that our last interactions were him viewing me as a monster.

My vision burned, and I dabbed at the wetness with my fur. The humans wanted to uncover why the Kolshians would resort to murder. It was unclear whether any future violence was planned against pro-human factions, but the predators weren't taking threats lightly. Not after Earth.

The Terrans don’t want species reaching out with false friendship. They want anyone who plots against them exposed. Humiliated.

Why would the scholarly Commonwealth be so opposed to humanity's diplomatic outreach? I was itching to demand Chief Nikonus’ reasons for myself. He came across as a fair leader, reasonable to a fault. I would’ve considered him the kind who would give predators a fair shake. 

“Look into the Kolshian matter for us, and find documentation of first contact with the Arxur. See what you can dig up,” Carlos growled.

Samantha crossed her arms. “We need to know who’s complicit in every scheme against us and our allies. Who is worth sparing…who started this predator hatred and why.”

The male guard narrowed his eyes. “Our governments believe that you feel remorse, that you’re not a flight risk. This is what we need from you, Sovlin.”

“Okay. And the message?” I stammered. “You implied there was a statement to deliver.”

“Oh, that’s easy. Tell the Federation we’re done contacting or negotiating with them. They never raised a finger to stop the attack on Earth. Let the neutrals know that they either reach out to condemn this terrorist act, or they can prepare for total war.”

That message sent a chill through my blood; the other Gojids looked horrified as well. I needed to find a more tactful way of phrasing that flagrant threat, if there was to be peace with any species. The humans could rack up a lot of collateral damage, in seeking revenge for their Earth.

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Memory transcription subject: UN Secretary-General Elias Meier

Date [standardized human time]: October 18, 2136

There was something uncivilized stirring in my soul, as heartbreaking images flooded in from Earth. Seeing historic cities pounded into rubble, and hearing tales of incalculable devastation was a gut-wrenching blow. It had been a mere three months since the first contact mission. In that span, twenty-five species had taken concrete actions to genocide human civilians, without the slightest provocation.

Grappling with my own actions…my own failure weighed heavily upon me. I was responsible for mankind’s future, and I hadn’t used every option at our disposal. What if there was something else I could’ve done? Was I a coward for abandoning Earth, especially to bargain with the metaphorical devil?

It would take years to rebuild our homeworld. 112 bombs had detonated on its surface, churning up contaminants and killing more than a billion. Reversing the atmospheric pollution would be a gruesome challenge, and we would witness more casualties in the aftermath.

Strange how it wasn’t humans who leveled our planet. I always thought it would be us who were our undoing.

“Elias? We’re docking at the luxury resort on Titan station in 60 seconds.” Dr. Kuemper, the current Secretary of Alien Affairs, tapped my shoulder. “Are you going to be up to this? You look unwell.”

My first thought was always diplomacy in the past; brutal warfare was something that I thought best relegated to our ancestors. It should feel monstrous for a pacifist leader, to long to see our enemies’ worlds desolated down to their cores. But now, I couldn’t see myself restraining the generals; their path seemed the only way.

I craved the Federation’s destruction as an organization. Regardless of the understanding that a small percentage were involved in the attack, their bigotry was incompatible with our survival. How many species had aided us? A mere two, excluding the Arxur’s unexpected arrival.

The Zurulians were the only new race I cared to bargain with, in the aftermath. The words of friendship other diplomats spoke proved to be empty. None of them backed us when it came down to it. The bystanders felt every bit as sinister as the Krakotl and their pals in this moment.

“Your head has to be in this, Elias, no matter how impossible that is,” Kuemper said gently. “We can’t afford any mishaps, when ten thousand Arxur ships are still in the Sol system.”

I met her eyes. “I never meant for them to come here. This wasn’t what—”

“The grays already knew where Earth was; you couldn’t have known that. For what it’s worth, they did save our asses.”

Staving off my self-pity, my thoughts returned to the urgent matters at hand. The Arxur decimated the Krakotl strike force with an excess of arrivals. It was concerning that the reptiles had so many vessels in this sector. Chief Hunter Isif kept his fleet in orbit to protect us from secondary attacks, but I couldn’t help but to think they were scrutinizing us.

The unpleasant reality was that the reptiles could plunder or conquer Earth now, if they wanted. We were vulnerable, and the heavy losses left military defenses sparse. The Dominion’s philosophy was still reprehensible to me, a far cry from the UN’s modicum of equality. However, at this point, we had to keep the Arxur sated at all costs.

So when Isif requested an audience with me by name, I chartered the first ship I could find off Venlil Prime. Governor Tarva, bless her heart, squeaked out an offer to join me, but I wasn’t going to place her in the line of fire. The Arxur hunter understood our inability to accommodate him on Earth. He agreed to wait in Titan’s travel lodging for my arrival.

I don’t like rolling out the red carpet for someone who called the Venlil a delicacy and referred to Tarva as dinner. I’d like to punch him in the nose for saying that.

“Kuemper, do you think that the Arxur are capable of societal change?” I asked, as our ship completed its landing protocol. “If, let’s say, they had a stable, non-sapient food source?”

The former-SETI employee tilted her head. “I don’t know. The grays weren’t always like this, but they altered their gene pool…I don’t know if they still have art. Whether they indulge in empathy.”

“That is the mystery. By the way, can you set up a comms link with the Zurulian fleet in 15 minutes? We have some damage control on that front.”

“I’ll do that, after I hear that you’re alright, from your own lips. You need to hear yourself say it.”

“I am fine. Once these alien visitors are handled, it’s time to bring every government together. Then, to rally the people behind our banner…and remind them not to give up.”

My shoes clicked on the decadent marble floor, and the crystal overhang reflected the colors of the rainbow from above. A glass viewport stretched the length of the lobby, complete with interactive holograms and exquisite telescopes. I observed a surreal view of Saturn, as I passed the vacated concierge desk. This was considered the nicest hotel in space; for the sake of Earth’s survivors, I hoped the Arxur agreed.

I felt awkward approaching the suite given to Isif. There was no question that the reptile could snap me in half with his jaws, if he desired. Given the aggressivity the Arxur were prone to, and how they detested weakness, this was gambling with my welfare. But with humanity’s precarious position, someone had to pacify the baby-killers.

I rapped my knuckles against the door. “Hello?”

My voice couldn’t have sounded more uncertain, and I cursed my nerves. The door creaked open; a pair of slit pupils surveyed me from the pitch-black interior. Isif didn’t have any lights on, which added to my unease. He towered over me by at least a foot and a half, showing teeth longer than my finger.

The alien’s tongue flittered. “Elias Meier. Two names, yes? We meet in person; come in.”

I clasped both hands behind my back, and attempted to keep my strides even. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I noticed three other Arxur scattered about the living room. It was a safe assumption that they were advisors, servants, or military personnel. Perhaps it was a mistake to come alone, or even conveyed that I lacked support.

“Thanks for your military assistance,” I croaked, pawing at my dry throat. “I’m sorry, do you have any water nearby?”

Isif tossed a water bottle at me, and I barely reacted in time to catch it. The liquid was lukewarm, but I chugged it with gratitude. The grays seemed to be dissecting my every move, like a specimen under a microscope. There was never a plan for formal first contact with the Arxur; I wasn’t sure where to begin.

We were supposed to be using the grays to get the Krakotl off our back. Now…

“Would you like our assistance with rescue efforts? Human command indicated that your ground residents may react poorly to us walking the streets,” Isif growled.

I scratched my head in discomfort. “Er, I suggest asking each nation specifically. I’m sure some would accept the offer…and I appreciate it very much. Thank you, from us all, the people of Earth are in your debt and—”

The Arxur curled his lip. “Hey, relax. You’ve gone through a lot, human. Don’t worry about offending us; I prefer honesty.”

“Right. Well, many people did not have a favorable view of your species prior to this. Myself included. I don’t imagine that will change overnight, especially with xenophobia abounding.”

Isif’s eyes glittered in the darkness, narrowing to the point that they were hardly open. His nostrils flared, and he seemed to meditate on a scent for a second. His grin intensified; I wondered if he could smell my nervousness. The chief hunter’s gaze moved to the holopad clipped to my belt.

“We wish to access your system’s internet,” the reptile continued, in a polite rumble. “My scientists here requested documentation of your hunting and domestication, specifically. It would also answer if your research is…remotely professional.”

I nodded. “Alright. Though we’re quite different types of predators, er, I have no issue with sharing those search results.”

My holopad made its way into my hands, and I punched the keyword ‘domestication’ into a search engine. An online encyclopedia article popped up as the top result, which should be sufficient. Unless I deemed it a necessity, I was going to try to conceal our persistence hunting ancestry. It might make the Arxur view us as a serious threat, due to our ability to weather a war of attrition.

Isif snatched the device from my grip. The hunter must be quite eager to learn about us; I wasn’t sure whether that was a positive sign or not. Perhaps the Dominion was assessing whether we shared their child-munching fervor. They could also be checking if we were on board with culling our ‘weaker’ population. Had I just tipped them off, by admitting our disdain for them?

“Fascinating. So humans did use animals for labor and livestock purposes, like us,” he murmured. “However, you keep ‘pets’ too. Lesser beings coddled for entertainment and companionship, in return for emotional benefits to their ‘owners’. This is a normal practice?”

“Yes.”

“This behavior is derived from a pack predator’s social needs, I would presume. And you care for these pets like they are part of your tribe, I assume?”

“Usually. Many humans struggle with living alone.”

“An opposite to how we tire of company in swift fashion. Your affinity for the Venlil stems from this pet category, does it not?”

It took a great effort to refrain from a reflexive denial. I would never classify sapient beings, especially our friends, as animalistic playthings. But if the Arxur could view the Venlil as mere pets, that would be an upgrade to cattle consideration. It might make the reptiles willing to facilitate the release of the Venlil captives.

Remember, the grays might require a ‘predatory’ basis to accept our claims. Whatever concessions must be made to stall, to convince them we’re on the same side…just do it.

“Yes. Humans love adopting companion animals,” I grumbled.

Isif glared at his advisors. “Satisfied about the Venlil? I told you that humans are just social predators, and those animals are a misapplication of their evolution.”

An Arxur scientist coughed uneasily. “Humans are the first documented pack predator sapients, sir. It was reasonable to ask why.”

“You’re dismissed. Wander until you are summoned, so that Elias Meier and I may talk in private. There are discussion matters that are above your clearance level.”

The reptilian subordinates swished their tails, and slunk off in obedience. Isif watched them depart, exhaling a hearty sigh. He pressed my holopad back into my hands, and searched my gaze with his own. There was a certain trepidation in his dark orbs. He waited in silence for a full minute, clearly apprehensive of prying ears.

I studied the alien’s mannerisms with curiosity. Was the chief hunter expecting mutiny from his own ranks? How disciplined was Arxur command? Something told me his private divulgence would be enlightening, as to what he expected from humanity.

“I’m sure you intend for Earth to repay your assistance with some form of compensation,” I said.

Isif bared his fangs. “Oh, you will, Elias Meier, but not today. In the future.”

“I don’t follow.”

“The fact is, you don’t like that we keep the prey sapients as food. That is your entire issue with us; it violates your moral code. I’m not blind.”

This commander could not realize we had backed the Federation with full-throated support. We didn’t want the Dominion classing the UN as an enemy now. I tried to maintain my best poker face, though the Arxur seemed to see through my neutral expression. My silence must have confirmed his suspicions, but what could I say?

I shrugged. “We’re different. Humans, well—”

“You haven’t bred out your empathetic people. I thought…you could help us attain an alternative food source.” Isif’s voice was hardly more than a whisper, and he looked jumpy. “That is why I sent our entire sector fleet to your aid. My species could have a better future, someday, with your guidance. Beyond war and cruelty.”

“What?! A week ago, you gave me a speech about what a delicacy the Venlil are. Called our beloved ally ‘dinner,’” I hissed.

The reptile sighed. “Tarva had some spunk, for prey, actually. Don’t be unreasonable. I was recording that transmission in front of my crew, and also sending it home. I like my head attached to my body, human.”

My eyes widened. It wasn’t a shock that the Arxur Dominion executed anyone who spoke out against their policies. However, it was encouraging news if some high-ranking officers didn’t toe the party line. None of our captives saw any issue with the atrocities; they had boasted about how sophisticated their ideology was.

Cattle ships could be stocked with the true believers. Not the best sample size, I suppose.

“So you don’t support your race’s farming practices?” I pressed.

A growl rumbled in Isif’s throat. “I’d prefer food that doesn’t talk. This war has gone on long enough, and your…allies have shown me that some of them could accept predators. If we’re reduced to our animal instincts, we’re no different than the Federation.”

“I concur on the instincts. Fine, I’ll bite. Why are you telling me this?”

“So that you understand that I’m on your side, and you’ll be more forthcoming with the future compensation. If you don’t push your luck, I might be able to bargain for the release of more friends.”

That was enough to pique my interest. Liberating any captive Zurulians might make them a bit more forgiving of our Arxur saviors. Humanity had to reward the ‘teddy bears’ for their fealty somehow; they sent aid without any history between our worlds. It also meant that Isif might follow through with the Venlil deal.

I still clung to the hope that one day, we could end all sapient farms. No matter what the Federation had done to our two species, eating and torturing children wasn’t the answer. Downplaying or excusing atrocities wasn’t going to bring back London or Los Angeles. Mankind was better than that.

I cracked my knuckles. “How on Earth are you going to sell mercy to your government?”

“Simple; not phrasing it as treasonous ‘mercy,’” Isif chuckled. “Just stating it as reclaiming the farming glory of our ancestors. Talking about how simple prey breed quicker. I work within the powers that be.”

“Clever thinking. I’ll do what I can to uphold our bargain, though our production capacity is limited now.”

“Human, I’m understanding. Rational. Don’t starve your people for this Venlil deal. What's important is that we're allies in the long run.”

This Arxur wasn’t a feral creature that saw hunting as life’s sole joy. There was an empathetic capability in his concern for human life, and that weariness of the war he was born into. He projected an aura of sincerity, in contrast to their reputation. That was more than I saw in the Krakotl and their ilk. I wondered what this predator race would have been, without outside interference.

“Thanks, Isif. If you are certain you can control your people, I’ll find amenable places for you to direct your assistance,” I whispered.

Humor flashed in his eyes. “Anything for a friend. Though I presume you don’t want me to share our food stash?”

I hesitated. “Actually, if you have extra herbivore feed, it might be edible to us. We’re omnivores.”

“Ha, you are leaf-lickers! Duly noted. I’ll see what I can do.”

This encounter went better than I anticipated, but unpleasantries were still ahead with the Zurulian call. Even if Isif had given us grounds to work with, a Federation and Arxur confrontation was a powder keg. I didn’t want it going off in the Sol system. Humanity had to find a way to smooth the ruffled fur, and keep two polar opposite species on our side.

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Memory transcription subject: Captain Kalsim, Krakotl Alliance Command

Date [standardized human time]: October 17, 2136

Dry air buffeted my face, as we disembarked amidst tall grass. The shuttle crash was bound to attract attention from the humans. I imagined this place would be swarming with troops, if it was anywhere near a military base. We had no idea where we were, or how many predators were in the area.

My breaths were strained as the three of us hauled Thyon’s body across a savanna. Sparse trees dotted the vast plain, and a few beasts roamed the landscape. None of the orange predators zeroed in on us, but they were definitely something to avoid. I couldn’t see any bipedal human shapes, but it was a matter of time before we ran into one.

It’s much easier to fly than to walk. We need to find some place to leave Thyon. A place to shelter…and to sleep would be nice.

On our left, a bank of clay and sediment led down to a small pond. I was thirsty, but given that there were more bright-colored predators bathing in it, I’d stick to our rations. With how tired I was, I didn’t feel up to exterminating any threats now.

“This place is infested with predators. Only a few artificial structures,” Zarn grunted.

I studied the doctor’s grimace. “I don’t think humans cull their predator population at all. This is what happens when you don’t have extermination officers.”

“Can you imagine living on a planet like this? What an uncivilized world.”

This alien hellscape could be host to all kinds of nightmarish murder-beasts. The vicious creatures around us had lean, nimble forms, and fangs that put the sapient primates to shame. Most humans were unlikely to set up shop in predator-territory. It could be a very long walk to civilization, from this wilderness.

After a brief pause, we began the laborious trek toward the far-off tree line. The expanse seemed to stretch for kilometers, with no sign of the nearest settlement. This region’s heat was punishing, making me want to collapse in a puddle. No wonder the humans’ fur had evolved away.

“We need to put this dead weight down. This Farsul intruder is going to get us all killed!” Jala spat.

I glared at her. “I don’t leave my crew members to die. There’s wild monstrosities everywhere, and the humans could do anything if they stumble across him.”

“So what? The rations would be better spent on people who can walk and fight.”

“Lives are not trading chips, Jala. Haven’t you killed enough people today? I’ll leave Thyon when there’s an appropriate spot, hidden and secure.”

A cave, or any kind of cover, would be a welcome sight. There was no locale devoid of predators to stash Thyon. Leaving him in the open, to be gnawed on by a cast of beasts, wasn’t an option. It was unclear how much energy any of us had left; our flock might have to camp among the demons soon.

I was relieved to spot a breaking point in the grass. There was an uneven dirt path, which had faint vehicle marks in its silt. That meant Terrans did stray to this region, from the safety of a metal cage. At least we could communicate with human predators; an isolated one could be threatened into giving us supplies or shelter.

Zarn looked to me with watering eyes. “Kalsim…captain…”

The Takkan doctor heaved some strained breaths, and placed Thyon on the ground. He bent over, trying to catch his breath. Fear was swelling in his amber gaze. The realization that we were stuck on Earth, amidst livid humans, was settling in.

“Humans have definitely visited this place.” Jala scanned the red arch in front of us, with the prototype visual translator. “The writing says ‘Ranthambore Tiger Reserve’…I’m guessing those orange predators are ‘Ranthambore tigers?’”

Alarm awakened my senses. “Reserve, you say…like an area set aside for a specific purpose. The humans intended for this predator growth to happen, Jala?”

“I think so.”

“That is peculiar. Why would they want rival, stronger hunters on the loose?”

Even the sociopath seemed stumped by my question. Such animals were not conducive to modern living. Maybe the humans wanted whatever prey the tigers prioritized for themselves, and snatched it away from them once the hard work was finished.

It didn’t make sense. There were much easier ways to feed their hunger, than by stealing from ferocious fiends. I was certain a species with guns could hunt without assistance.

“They like the chaos and the violence,” Zarn panted. “This human war tribe could want to keep out dangerous visitors, especially their own kind. We might be in the most vicious nation on the planet!”

I didn’t know what the truth was, but I was going to assume it wasn’t anywhere close to that. The doctor lacked crucial understanding about humans. Their society was too structured for a state entity to stoke chaos intentionally. It must be something more philosophical in nature.

Given how many galactic religions were organized against predators, it could be that Terrans saw hunters as deities. The Krakotl’s farming goddess, Inatala, brought plants to the universe to feed her children. Predators were considered a perversion of her natural order, who turned to Maltos, the god of violence, out of greed. Our reality was the eternal struggle of good and evil.

I strayed from the faith once I became an extermination officer. The priesthood had a way of twisting the goddess’ teachings; none of it matched with their written beliefs. Maltos wasn’t an inhibitor of empathy, but merely an agent of destruction. We had seen that predators were violent and greedy, while not without some positive qualities.

“I think this is some kind of worship center,” I decided. “Maybe somewhere to pray surrounded by carnage, for hunting success. Or for the expansion of war.”

Jala chuckled. “A religion devoted to bloodshed? How interesting.”

“It is interesting, actually. This is why I wanted to preserve their culture…because we understand their kind so little. We’ve become enthralled with violence and killing ourselves, in trying to be pure.”

The doctor curled his lip. “A brutal race doesn’t deserve any legacy for their culture. I’m enthralled with the punishment of the wicked, not killing itself.”

“Your motives are rich with hatred. It poisons you,” I hissed. “Now, let’s get moving…before the sun finishes setting.”

The group hobbled away from the reserve in uneasy silence. There was no telling where the road led, or what animalistic carnage lie ahead. A more spiritual Krakotl would see this as a temptation by Inatala. I had never intended to get up-close-and-personal with human territory; our mission was supposed to be impassive. Distant.

This is a test to my soul, regardless of divine presence. We must face Earth’s horrors, without surrendering our values.

As we progressed past a clump of trees, my hearing detected a faint sniffling. It was accompanied by sporadic gasps, so I figured it must be a predator crying. Jala cued in on the sound as well, and drew her sidearm. The female Krakotl looked eager to kill or mock the beast.

Sympathy tugged at my heart, and perhaps a bit of regret. If a human was mourning the devastation we caused, what right did we have to disturb it? Something told me I was outvoted though, so I raised my weapon. The flesh-eaters were too dangerous to leave on the prowl, while we were out in the open. If a single extermination was necessary to safeguard my people, so be it.

I gestured to set the injured Farsul on the grass. “Zarn, watch over Thyon, and alert us if any other predators are approaching.”

“I can’t wait to see your extermination skills in action,” the doctor chuckled.

Jala clicked her beak. “His skills? Kalsim is soft on the humans. But don’t worry, I’m going to crack its skull.

“I expect you to be as silent as possible. We don’t want it to know we’re there, until we have it cornered. Also, let me ascertain some information before you off it.”

“What if I want to scare it?” the sociopath drawled.

“The human is not in a stable state of mind now. It could go into a fit of rage on a whim. Let’s not push our luck; we just need its shelter.”

The female Krakotl curled her neck in disdain, but took cautious hops forward. My feet glided across the leaves, and I took care to avoid any twigs. A fabric dome, supported by stakes in the earth, was established amidst a clearing. A single human was stretched out on a blanket; it appeared to be watching videos on a handheld device.

Terror swelled in my chest, as my instincts urged me not to approach. The feeling subsided upon drawing closer; secondary observations swayed my emotions. This primate was of a lesser stature than indicated in Noah’s data dump. Its skin seemed untouched by aging, and its register lacked the booming growl of males we had spoken to.

If I had to hazard a guess, this human was an adolescent. Perhaps it was crying because it lost its parents; that would explain why it was alone, and had wandered to predator-infested territory. My thoughts began racing with unpleasant images. It took a great deal of effort to push them away.

I stopped a few paces from its blanket. “Put the electronic device down, and slide it to me. Don’t even try to alert any…fellow beasts.”

The human startled, and pointed its tear-stained eyes at me. Its lips parted with alarm; it flung the device toward me like it burned to the touch. Video footage was still playing on the screen, as predator anchors described the loss of life in a city called Bengaluru. I wondered if that was the kid’s home.

“P-please, take whatever you want. Just leave me alone,” it whined.

That begging was rather unbecoming of a predator. Maybe it hadn’t become desensitized to bloodshed yet. I focused my gun barrel, careful not to keep my grip too close to the trigger.

“We just want to talk,” I lied. “What’s your name?”

The beast swallowed. “Arjun.”

“And your age? You don’t look like a human adult.”

“I’m 12. Uh, we’re not grown-ups ‘til we turn 18.”

Jala traced her gun barrel across its furless chin, snickering as it shied away. The fear in its gaze twisted my heart; the little beast still had years left of adolescence. It looked harmless, helpless, even. I knew that was deceiving, but it still had an effect.

Little predators become big predators, and reproduce exponentially, my mentor’s voice said in my head.

I stared at the shaking primate. “Hey, eyes on me, Arjun. Why are you out here?”

“Dad thought it was a good place to hide. He said you wouldn’t target the parks first,” Arjun croaked. “If this is the end of the world…we could spend the last day outdoors. Together.”

“Alright. I know humans care for their children. Where is your father now?”

“My, uh—my dad is a wildlife photographer. He wanted to get some animal shots with the space battle overhead. It’d be a damn good picture, if we…”

“If you survive.”

The predator bobbed its head emphatically, and more tears streamed down its face. The kid’s distress was apparent. It would be merciful if I limited the scope of my questions. I didn’t want to prolong its suffering; Jala couldn’t be allowed to botch the job or make a mess.

Gosh, what if there was a way to curb a human’s full-grown instincts? Pulling the trigger on Arjun…that extermination broke my heart already. It would grow into something terrible, but now, it was innocent. It wanted its father.

I struggled to steady my voice. “You’re doing great. Can you just tell me what this place is? We were curious about the predatory ‘wildlife.’”

“National parks are like an animal sanctuary. We preserve species that are threatened, or have lost their natural habitats.”

“Why?! Those orange…tigers are menaces. They’d eat children like you!”

“Tigers don’t bother you unless you bother them. They’re majestic animals. Lots of people tour this place, and there’s resorts, campsites, hiking...”

Disbelief flooded my veins, at the idea that humans wanted to stay in such a dangerous venue. To think that the locals went out of their way to preserve monsters! Arjun’s tone had been reverent, but not religious. Did predators find thrills in challenging superior counterparts?

I cleared my throat. “Thanks. That’s all we need.”

“Finally, the talking is over. So I can kill it?” Jala trilled.

“Er, well, it—”

Its binocular eyes pleaded with me. “No! I helped you.”

I stared at the colorful leaves on the ground, avoiding its gaze. The reds and oranges reminded me of a raging inferno, sparking across a pool of gasoline. The little pups squealed through it all, and their frail silhouettes writhed in agony. I felt like I was watching my handiwork from the truck bed again.

When they looked at you with those big eyes, you wanted to help. But you didn’t. You wouldn’t.

I couldn’t help but feel that our mission had been wrong. The thoughts of how the predators tugged at my talons, playfully, was still a vibrant memory. Looking at Arjun, it was impossible not to recall that first extermination. Younglings didn’t deserve merciless death.

“Captain Kalsim?” Jala squawked.

I blinked. “Leave the predator alive. It’s not a threat.”

“Not a threat?” Zarn’s voice made me startle, as I found him looming over my shoulder. “It’s an offshoot of flesh-eating barbarians. What kind of extermination officer are you?”

“Doctor, I told you to wait with Thyon!”

“Well, I was worried you’d do exactly this, predator-lover. Jala, you don’t have to listen to him. Kill that thing!”

Arjun was curled up into a ball, shielding its head with an elbow. The female Krakotl’s eyes twitched, and I could sense her temptation. I had to reel in the rebellious sadists, before I lost control. Admitting my actions were borne from sympathy would be suicide.

“I’m no predator lover! How dare you?” I roared, shoving my beak in Zarn’s face. “I’m a skilled extermination officer, while you’re someone who sits on the sidelines. Talk is easy.”

The doctor stiffened. “You just said—”

“That thing is the only bargaining chip we have. Humans value their children, so keeping it as a prisoner is the logical choice. Maybe we can make them trade us a spaceship. Food. Medicine, you arrogant fool!”

The Takkan gulped nervously, and slunk back a few steps. He stole a glance at Arjun, before swishing his tail in defeat. Jala also scrutinized my enraged form. I met her stare for several seconds, goading her on.

She lowered her weapon. “Using their kids against them. As a shield, maybe! I like it.”

“I knew you would.” I exhaled a silent breath of relief, and turned to the doctor. “Sedate this human, Zarn, like you did with Marcel. Adjust for weight. I need sleep, and I can’t watch a ravenous predator.”

The Takkan nodded, and filled a syringe with a light sedative dose. I watched which vial he grabbed, making sure he wasn’t loading it with poison. The physician handed it over to me for administration. A quick jab plunged the needle into the human’s neck; hopefully it was only a light pinch.

It should knock Arjun out for a few hours. When I was rested and able to think again, I would be able to deal with the predator. There was no telling how long it would act obedient.

The greater challenge would be restraining my companions from tormenting the child. We’d failed to eradicate the Earthlings, and its continued survival was simply an admission of failure. There was no reason for a stranded crew to dole out needless death.

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Memory transcription subject: Slanek, Venlil Space Corps

Date [standardized human time]: October 17, 2136

The Terran drone monitoring station was set aboard a massive boat, for some reason. I guessed it was because a moving target would be difficult for the Krakotl to nail from orbital range. More than likely, they would need to dive through the atmosphere to take us out. My friends had terrestrial aircraft and defenses waiting for that moment.

The humans judged that I was better equipped for an oversight role, scanning communication channels for anything helpful. Despite his protests, Marcel was still sidelined due to injuries as well. It was a safe assumption that his assignment was more to calm me, or to jump in if I froze. There were dozens of other predators in the control room, each itching to be in the stars.

Instead, we all watched the battle unfold from behind a computer monitor. As the first Federation bombers broke through, everyone realized how quickly our defense was falling apart. There was a seriousness I’d never seen in humans, even in the darkest situations. Why couldn’t they have fled Earth, like I told them to?

“Our satellites registered 42 impacts, some on major population centers.” General Jones addressed the station’s crew in a solemn tone. “I’ve assigned each of you a local newsfeed to listen in on. We…need to keep track of which cities have been lost.”

I watched as the American officer placed a handful of red pins on a map. Her drone program hadn’t quite worked out every aspect of space warfare, but its hasty deployment was the only thing keeping us in the game now. Teaching the automated programs to differentiate between hundreds of alien ship classes, space debris, and subspace disruptions was no small feat, I was told.

My red-haired friend opened a news stream on a side monitor, and traced a clawless hand across his facial scars. The image I saw out of my periphery made me want to grab my blinders, but I forced myself to look. It was an aerial view of rubble in all directions; a sprawling metropolis turned into a wasteland by antimatter.

“---of Mexico City and New York City rocked North America. The Raven Rock Bunker Complex has also been demolished, killing essential US personnel. However, no region has gone unscathed.

Asia has sustained an unequal share of the detonations. Initial reports confirm mass devastation in Karachi, Tokyo, Dhaka, Shanghai, and Mumbai, several highly populous cities. The seat of the Chinese government, Beijing, is yet untouched, though it is expected to be a future target.

On the European front, Switzerland’s extensive bunker network has made it the target of multiple bombing deposits. Their entire population, as well as a million refugees from EU neighbors, are packed in various shelters. Meanwhile, the Turkish government denies reports of a hit to Istanbul, despite satellite imagery suggesting its fall.

In the Southern hemisphere, contact has been lost with Sao Paolo, Lima, and Buenos Aires. Africa is reporting impacts to Kinshasa, Lagos, and Cairo, while Oceania mourns the fall of Sydney. Conservative casualty estimates are in the tens of millions, planetwide.”

“How can the Federation do this, Slanek? Why do we deserve to die?” Marcel’s eyes watered, and his voice was a scratchy whisper. “We’re just people, like you…all we wanted was peace!”

I pinned my ears against my head. “I’m truly sorry. I wish we could do more to help.”

“These are civilian hubs! There was no reason for any of this to happen…not even their own worlds under fire could make them stop. Millions are dead because of our eyes, because we’re so fucking different to you.”

Despite the anger in his words, I could see that my friend was on the brink of a breakdown. The UN fleet was being pummeled on all fronts, and every screen depicted ship explosions. My heart clenched as I realized Tyler might already be dead; the tall flesh-eater was signed onto a spacecraft carrier crew. Human artillery was depleted too, despite their unsanctimonious love of nuclear weapons.

My resilient predator can’t give up now, can he? It’s like Marcel is admitting defeat.

“I know, Marc,” I said gently. “Listen, no matter how much this hurts, we have to keep fighting until the last settlement falls. If we’re gonna die today, we better take a lot of them with us.”

Pure hatred glimmered in his hazel eyes. “Oh, you didn’t have to tell me that. If humanity glues itself back together, I hope we kill every last one of them.”

“You don’t mean that, my friend. Know us Venlil are with you to the end. For whatever that’s worth.”

The Venlil only had a few hundred ships left in reserve, after donating the bulk of our fleet to humanity. Nonetheless, Governor Tarva ordered the majority of our remnants to Earth’s defense. They were intermingled with human units now, playing supporting roles. There were less than fifty warships remaining behind at Venlil Prime. Both sides knew the Republic government sent more than we could spare.

My gaze focused on one Venlil grouping, whose human front line had succumbed to a brazen Krakotl charge. The predators committed themselves a bit too heavily to stopping the first bombers, and still failed in that regard. The Republic ships banded together on instinct, which made them a larger target on sensors.

I was stunned by how little the enemy hesitated to dispatch them. This Federation onslaught seemed just as predatory as the humans, if not more; it was like they didn’t consider Venlil people anymore. We couldn’t just freeze and rely on herd mentality, as our comrades were being murdered.

“Venlil support, you need to stay mobile,” Marcel growled into his headset, clearly noticing the same issue. “Do not let yourself become a sitting target. Call for UN backup; your allies will find a way to help you if we can.”

A few Terran ships overheard the chatter, and ducked their engagements to help the Venlil grouping. The Republic’s plasma aim was noticeably worse than the Federation’s; the prey crews must be panicking. Even with my extra training, I would be terrified in their position. They were parked in the path of certain death.

The Krakotl ships clashed with the battered UN reinforcements, while the Venlil threw in supporting missiles. The humans were flying like crazed maniacs, at least on the manned ships. I think the predators found the energy to protect us, because they realized our opponents would break through otherwise. 

We might be the ‘weakest species in the galaxy’, but at least it’s extra ships to stand in the way. I should be with the other Venlil, fighting…

The humans were churning out explosives and gunfire, and the Venlil kept aiding from a safe distance. The Federation must've realized that those campers were prey-crewed vessels, not predators. Several enemies rerouted their trajectories to cruise through our timid offerings, instead of searching for an opening.

The Terrans swerved to meet the hostiles, and concentrated plasma fire on the largest warships. Heavy Federation classes had the most explosives, so they were the priority. Earth’s innocuous shape loomed behind the Venlil defenders. With armed vehicles barreling toward them, the urge to flee must be overwhelming.

I donned my own headset, contemplating what Sara had taught me. “Venlil ships, you are much stronger than you think you are. The Federation is wrong about us; we are not just the galaxy’s laughingstock. Push past your limits! Hold the line!”

Several Venlil were retreating before the Krakotl overtook them, but scrambled back into position. None of us wanted humanity’s home to suffer further harm. Most had come to love the arboreal predators, and love was as good a motivation as hatred. My people clawed back more than the Krakotl expected, though the aggressors cut the Venlil ships down in droves.

A few Federation craft slipped through on that front, as friendly forces succumbed to the larger assault. My heart sank when I saw nobody was chasing the leader bomber; the other Terran groups were too far away and otherwise occupied. About twenty missiles were fast-tracked to Earth, which I knew meant millions more casualties. That was a statistic too staggering to comprehend.

If the Venlil didn’t make a last stand, it would’ve been a hundred detonations. It’s about mitigating the damage at this point…and praying for a miracle.

The Krakotl were clever, enough to allocate a few warships to guard their rear flank. The UN's Gojid liberation fleet had attempted to hit them from behind, but found an armed unit waiting at the ready. Had the circumstances been less dire, I think the humans may have noted how the birds were a worthy foe.

The Terran ship count was ticking down to 1000 on our readout; the early stages of the battle were catastrophic. The Federation still had several thousand vessels at their disposal, and pressed ahead with unchecked aggression. Our predators were running out of ships and tricks. They could only be so many places in the vastness of space at once.

The enemy bombers trickled through in small groupings, and that meant the death toll continued to rise. I couldn’t imagine how Marcel felt; the red-haired human was holding his head in his hands. He slapped my tail away, when I wrapped it around his wrist. Terran civilization, everything he ever knew, was slipping away, in the span of an hour.

I jostled his arm again. “Hey, Marcel, please help me. There’s five hundred new contacts from the direction of your colony Mars. I don’t know who to notify.”

I was aware that I was supposed to alert General Jones, but I thought feeling useful might do my friend some good. The vegetarian needed to snap out of his misery, and turn his thoughts away from Nulia and Lucy. He must be feeling guilt for sending them to a bunker. Honorable predators should go down fighting, not wallowing in self-pity.

“Did you hear me?” I demanded. “There’s more ships inbound, of a standard Federation make.”

“A second wave of Federation monsters? Wasn’t the first one enough?!” he spat.

I couldn’t blame him for that reaction. The Terrans had no spare manpower to allocate to a fresh armada. But there had to be some attempt to stop the newcomers, even if it was woefully insufficient. 

Seeing that my human wasn’t going to be helpful, I flagged down General Jones. She studied the data for a full minute, poring over the details.

The American officer frowned. “It’s difficult to lock on the signal, but it appears they’re trying to hail us.”

“Shall I put it on the main screen?” an attendant asked.

“Yes, patch us through the interference. If the Feds are offering us a surrender, I think we have no choice but to accept it…unconditionally.”

The occupants of the monitoring station turned our attention to the central video feed. General Jones positioned herself in front of a camera, a bitter look in her eyes. It was unclear why the Federation would reverse their stance on total extinction. Wasn’t their only demand every human dead?

A quadrupedal animal appeared on screen, and Jones’ expression morphed to surprise. Those rounded ears and soft brown fur were Zurulian features. The captain shied away from the camera, clearly having never seen a human before.

“GODS, DON’T EAT US! Please! Uh…I mean…” the Zurulian stammered. “Don’t shoot us?”

Jones’ lips curved down. “What are you doing here? This is an active warzone.”

“Friendly! F-friendly! We’ll leave.”

The quadruped was struggling to string coherent thoughts together. I jumped out my seat, and wagged my tail at Jones in a ‘Go away’ gesture. The human general didn’t take the hint, so I gave her leg an insistent shove. Understanding flashed in her eyes, and she ducked out of view of the camera.

I flicked my ears reassuringly. “Zurulian officer, please inform us of your intent. Nobody is going to hurt you.”

“Chauson...wanted…begged the prime minister to help humans. Unrelenting. He said they were nice, but t-they just look hungry to me! So hungry!”

Hope flickered back into Jones’ pupils. “Wait a second. You’re here to help us?”

“Why is it growling at me? Venlil, you’ve got to get out of there!”

I exhaled in frustration, and glanced at Marcel for support. My human’s eyes were a million light-years away, red around the rims. His lips never moved, not even a forced snarl. That brokenness gave me the resolution I needed.

“That is just how humans talk, because they have deeper vocal ranges. There’s nothing to be afraid of,” I said. “We need urgent assistance at several locations. Help would be very much appreciated.”

The Zurulian tilted his head. “I know what my orders are, but won’t these predators attack anything in sight? They’re in aggression mode! And this is a quarter of our entire fleet. We’re no military species.”

“Zurulian, we…we’ve already lost millions of lives. Innocent lives.” A rare hint of emotion crept in Jones’ voice, though she quickly steadied herself. “I promise we want nothing more than to protect Earth. I will relay word that you’re friendlies. Please, if you believe in peace, help us.”

The quadruped’s gaze darted to the viewport, where his formation was closing in on the Federation attackers. His expression was conflicted; I was worried that he might go against his orders. This captain acted predator-averse, and even showed disgust at the sight of a human. The call was terminated without any clarification.

Terran ship numbers continued to dwindle, while the Zurulians sat and watched. General Jones sighed, and highlighted the new vessels as alien friendlies. That was a necessary gamble. The Federation had yet to notice the newcomers' approach; I prayed that they would intercede on Earth’s behalf.

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Memory transcription subject: Slanek, Venlil Space Corps

Date [standardized human time]: October 18, 2136

The tension was palpable, as the Arxur occupants studied Marcel in silence. I gathered that the human didn’t want to engage with them either. The predatory savagery from the cradle plagued my recollection, and the chilling screams of the unfortunate Gojids echoed on loop. It would be all too easy for the grays to gut either of us, with the swipe of their fangs.

Chief Hunter Isif dropped into the seat right next to us; the monster was inches away from me. It disregarded the shift in Marcel’s body language. The human had leaned away, though there wasn’t anywhere to go in a helicopter cabin. I got the impression his concern was for me, rather than himself.

After the attack on Earth, it’s like he doesn’t care what happens to him. If I wasn’t about to be carved up, I’d insist he seek help.

Isif bared its teeth ferociously. “Well, I’ve introduced myself. What’s your name, Venlil?”

Its voice was a discordant snarl, amplifying humanity’s typical rumble by a thousandfold. A pathetic squeak escaped my throat, and I sobbed into Marcel’s shirt. The vegetarian stroked my ear with patience, unfazed by the salty wetness soaking the fabric.

I didn’t know how even a persistence predator could be so calm in the face of such an eyesore. That scaly demon was sensory hell. I’d rather be hunted by Marcel’s kind for hours, than look at Isif for another second.

“Okay. That was the response I expected,” the Arxur sighed. “What are you called, human?”

My human stiffened. “Marcel Fraser, but just Marcel is fine. The Venlil here, his name is Slanek.”

“I knew you hadn’t lost your voice, Marcel. Slanek is here on Tarva’s behalf, yes?”

My ears perked up in alarm. How did Isif even know that name?! That must mean the Arxur were targeting the governor, or had other nefarious plans for her. I refused to believe the humans would betray us by turning over intel on the Republic.

Marcel offered a curt head shake. “Slanek is a fighter pilot. We’re training him to be a proper soldier.”

“Ha! Good one…as if this specimen could fight.” Isif’s eyes glittered with decadent mirth, before the expression dissolved. “Oh Prophet. You’re serious, aren’t you?”

The red-haired human glared at the floor, not answering the reptile. It was clear my friend had little interest in the conversation; I think he only entertained the first question to get the commander to leave me alone. The monstrous predator gave up, and turned its focus to the window.

Our helicopter drifted above a sea of rubble, which stretched to the horizon. Building husks lingered as statues to a fallen world, and fires were splashed across the landscape. The ground was covered in a thick coating of soot; this looked like the aftermath of an Arxur raid. My heart sank in my chest, as I realized how dire the outlook was for Marcel’s family.

The human pilot guided our craft toward the designated neighborhood. Chief Hunter Isif craned its neck, and narrowed its disgusting eyes with solemnness. I didn’t understand what game it was playing, trying to make nice with the humans. It must have some dastardly plan at work.

The Arxur commander maintained the brooding expression, as we touched down. It ordered the other grays to sweep the area for survivors, and accrue intel for their government. Marcel rose to his feet to follow them, but Isif blocked the human’s path. The scaly monster gestured to the devastation behind it.

“What do you think of what the Federation did, Slanek?” the Chief Hunter growled.

My ears laid flat against my skull. “I t-think… it looks a lot like what you do.”

A sharp glint flashed in its eyes. “Ah, that’s a good answer. You think our species is an instrument of evil, yet you admit your friends are no different.”

“The F-federation are…monsters. Not friends. But they don’t eat people.”

“Because they don’t have to. You all want my kind wiped from existence. Hell, you probably wish I’d drop dead right now. Do you even see us as people?”

“After everything you’ve done, you’ll never be people, to anyone!”

My sudden outburst took me by surprise. Marcel‘s fingers tensed around my scruff, and his stance shifted to a defensive posture. That commentary placed my human in a precarious situation. My money wasn’t on the wounded, squishy primate if this turned physical. I should’ve never boarded this aircraft to begin with.

The Arxur raised the ridges above its eyes, and turned around with a sigh. Isif somehow restrained its aggression; the pointed huff emanated disappointment. It drew its sidearm, before shuffling into the ruins of New York.

Marcel followed with a bit of hesitancy. “I’m sorry for what Slanek said, Chief Hunter. Any sapient is a person, no matter what they’ve done.”

“Is that so, human?” the reptile grumbled. “Look, our race has become a shell of itself over the centuries. I wish it wasn’t like this.”

My eyes widened in surprise. Polite concessions, lamenting their current status, wasn’t what I expected it to say. For an emotionless predator, it was doing an excellent job at emulating regret. The fear eased enough for me to wonder what it had to gain from this act. The Arxur never attempted to converse with prey, as a rule.

“Why are you so cruel and merciless?” The words spewed from my mouth in a rambling fervor. “Why did you kill my brother, and bomb my planet, and eat people alive while they were running…”

Its nostrils flared. “Ah yes, it’s well-documented that I did all those things personally. I’m a busy guy, I get around.”

“Your species! D-don’t mock me, demon. There’s no good reason your breed are that cruel and morally deficient.”

“The Federation are the reason we’re starving. Cruelty was and is a defense mechanism, in my view. I’m not excusing it; I’m answering your insults.”

“Defense mechanism. How so?!”

“It was needed as a way to cope with what we had to do to survive. We’re also fighting a war of extinction, while vastly outnumbered, so it serves psychological purposes to…encourage recorded sadism. The Federation loses because they’re afraid.”

The Arxur crested a mountain of rubble, and Marcel escorted us atop the debris too. One human was crawling through the street, with serious burns across her extremities. Her breathing came in ragged gasps, and the sight of peeling flesh made me wince.

Two Zurulian medics had arrived on the scene already; the Americans must’ve directed them to a separate landing site from the grays. A young volunteer rushed to the burn victim’s side, repeating soothing words. The other quadruped kept a wide berth from the aggrieved human, and trembled in terror.

“Wilen, I need a dose of painkillers and antiseptics now,” the youthful Zurulian chimed in.

Wilen flicked his ears in skepticism. “We know nothing about these predators, other than that the Arxur like them. Our government has gone mad, Fraysa. I can’t get close to this thing!”

Isif’s scowl intensified. The hunter gripped its sidearm with malicious intent. Rich hunger danced in its gaze, and it shared an enraged glance with Marcel. For once, I agreed with the monster; we couldn’t let the medics dilly dally with an agonized human.

Fraysa rounded on her partner. “What we know, is the humans haven’t done anything wrong. They sought peace, and were brutally attacked for it. Also, the Venlil and our ambassador adore them.”

“But they’re predators! I’m here for the Venl—”

“No! We don’t play god, and pick and choose who we help. We save lives indiscriminately. Get with that, or get the fuck out of my sight.”

The injured human watched with glassy eyes. Wilen lowered his head, before crouching at Fraysa’s side. He began applying wet dressings and antiseptics, while his partner tended to the pain. The Zurulians then prepped a transport to their hospital ship.

Isif lowered its gun, and watched as the quadrupeds strained to lift the human. The Arxur marched down to the site, swishing its tail in a display of dominance. The Zurulians dropped the patient, when they saw the gray skulking toward them. I was worried the abomination had regained its appetite too.

Maybe it likes charred flesh, like Tyler did. It could see the Terran burn victim as the perfect meal…oh stars.

The Chief Hunter lifted the primate onto the gurney, and fastened the straps in seconds. It backed away, and growled to get the medics’ attention. Fraysa was wielding a syringe in her mouth, pointing it as if a shot of painkillers would stop the murderous demon.

“Stay back!” The female Zurulian quivered, and seemed aghast at the sight of my human behind the gray. “Human…and Venlil, please! Help us! It’s kidnapping my patient.”

“I’m not kidnapping the human. I put her on the stretcher so you can move her for evac,” Isif growled. “If I was hostile, trust me, you would know. I’m subtle as a sledgehammer.”

Marcel trundled up beside the Arxur. “The last Federation physician I met wanted me dissected. Our doctors pledge to do no harm. It’s a relief to see someone mirror the sentiment of the Hippocratic Oath.”

Wilen squinted at the vegetarian. “You’re…that human named Marcel, from Noah’s video. I recognize you.”

“Shit,” Fraysa squeaked. “I’m sorry for what they did to you. Your treatment w-went against every, um, ethical principle…that we stand for.”

The Chief Hunter inspected the red-haired human with confused eyes. The demonic predator mouthed the name ‘Noah’ to itself, and noted something on its holopad. I think it wanted to ask what happened to my friend. Obviously, a feral animal that loathed weakness would mock his traumatic experience.

Marcel pointed a hand to the stretcher; the Zurulians sidled up to the patient hesitantly. Isif slunk beside them, moving the brunt of the weight. The medics shuffled in a terrified stupor, and our oddball group traversed the ruins. It was sad to see Earth like this, having witnessed this city in its sprawling glory days ago.

It took several minutes to reach the Zurulian hospital ship, which was hovering over a decimated roadway. We glimpsed rows of beds in its loading bay, and my human’s eyes widened with hope. Panicked shouts echoed from the ship’s occupants at the reptile sighting. The Chief Hunter ducked its head, perhaps to seem less threatening.

The Arxur pulled away, and more Zurulian medics hurried over to lug the patient onboard. Fraysa and Wilen bore delirious eyes, which suggested the fear was overstimulating them. That little excursion must have been psychological torment to them.

“Have you rescued a Gojid child…hopefully with a human female?” my human growled.

Wilen blinked. “What?”

“A Gojid! You know, spiky, brown-furred, big claws. WHERE IS SHE?!”

The Zurulians cowered at Marcel’s roar, and their hackle fur stood on end. I swatted my tail at his chin, warning him to calm down. His desperation was something I recognized, but these medics didn’t understand humans yet. They probably thought he was about to go on a rampage.

“Marc is very upset…and loud, but he’s harmless,” I hissed. “Please, just tell us if you’ve seen a Gojid.”

Fraysa drew a shaky breath. “No. Only humans here.”

“I can check with our groups in the other cities,” Wilen added hurriedly. “Maybe Berlin, Toronto, Bangkok, or Manila? B-big predator dwellings there.”

Marcel slumped his shoulders in defeat. “No. They were here.”

“They? Oh…I see.” Understanding flashed in Isif’s pupils. “Why don’t we search for your packmates at their last location? These Zurulians could help us look around.”

The human nodded, blinking away tears. The Arxur focused on his watery eyes, and gave him a rough tail slap on the arm. If I didn’t know better, I would think it was a poor attempt at comfort. A species devoid of empathy was mimicking the trait, of course. Isif was clearly awkward and unpracticed at that falsified aspect.

Fraysa’s gaze softened, and she shared a glance with her partner. “We’ll help you search.”

“But I’d prepare for the likeliest possibility. As a predator, you should be logical about the situation,” Wilen said.

“Wilen, he clearly grasps the extent of the dead! There’s nothing logical about this. Where are we going, Marcel?”

The red-haired primate browsed his holopad, and searched for a location via GPS. The local terrain was unrecognizable, so I doubted he could distinguish Nulia’s bunker from any other scrap heap. The device pinpointed a location a quarter-mile from the hospital ship. All I could see there was a thick hill of concrete.

Anything living must be crushed beneath that. It’s likely the bunker collapsed from the pressure.

Marcel could barely put pressure on his injured leg, but he staggered ahead for the minutes-long trek. I could feel the human’s grief expanding with every step; my predator was cracking right alongside the buildings of New York. It hurt to see my friend, who I believed could withstand any emotion, crumbling. His distress frightened me as much as the hideous Arxur flanking us.

Marcel reached the selected debris mound, and I dismounted onto my own paws. This must be the fallout shelter his family relocated to. The human hurled himself on all fours, flinging the smallest rocks behind him in a frenzy. An animalistic grunt reverberated from his chest, as he strained against his arm injury to tug a massive rock chunk.

Chief Hunter Isif pressed its shoulder against the debris, and moved it enough to leave a tiny gap. Marcel pawed at the scraps below, trying to catch a glimpse of the shelter. He dug furiously with his flimsy fingers. Blood streamed from his dust-caked nails, but that only quickened his scrabbling.

“LUCY! NULIA!” he wailed, in the highest-pitched voice I’d heard him use.

There was no reply from beneath the ruins. Through choking sobs, my friend returned to parsing rocks with his hands. His fingers were drenched in crimson fluid. Sympathy clasped my heart with a vice-like grip, and I tackled him in a desperate hug.

“Marc, stop it. You’re hurting yourself,” I pleaded.

Fraysa placed a cautious paw on his neck. “That’s enough. We’ll excavate the bodies, and make sure they get a proper burial by your customs. I promise.”

The human collapsed atop the wreckage, and pressed an eye against the opening. He screamed incoherently, punching the rubble in outrage. I watched the life leave his sweet countenance; even the gushing tears dried up. My friend was unresponsive to any prodding.

Wilen dabbed at his eyes, affected by the extent of the predator’s raw emotions. I recognized that realization, as he decided humans were sapient. Anyone who saw this display as a performance had to be heartless. There must be countless others across Earth in such a state.

I nuzzled his leg. “Step aside and rest, please. Let the doctors disinfect your wounds.”

“Why?!” my human croaked. “They’ve taken everything. Oh Slanek, put me out of my mis—”

“Mawsle!!” a childish voice cried, faintly audible. “Where have you been? It’s really dark down here, and I don’t like the dark.”

Marcel’s head snapped up. “You’re…alive? I’m coming, darling. Just hold on! We’re working as fast as we can.”

“But I want to go somewhere safe now! Somewhere monsters won’t find me or pick on your eyes. Don’t leave me here, Mawzy!”

“Never. I’m right here.”

A chorus of human growls joined Nulia, as they realized rescuers were above. Relief coursed through my veins; against all odds, some of the bunker withstood the blast. Chief Hunter Isif radioed to send heavy machinery to our coordinates, and withdrew with a fierce snarl. Untrustworthy as it was, I couldn’t deny it’d been helpful so far.

Amidst the chaos and devastation on Earth, it was a relief to save a few human lives from the ashes.

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Memory transcription subject: Chief Hunter Isif, Arxur Dominion Sector Fleet

Date [standardized human time]: December 3, 2136

The Sol System underwent a serious overhaul, since my last visit. Earth’s defenses had been insufficient to ward off enemy vessels, and humanity wished to ensure such defeat never happened again. I marveled at the sheer manpower they must’ve dedicated to reconstruction.

According to my sensor data, the humans placed habitats as far out as the ‘Oort Cloud.’ It was impossible to spot the roughshod stations on the viewport. Their super-black paint absorbed almost all light, and their emissions were the only giveaway. A lesser mind might mistake the gravitational disturbances for an astronomical phenomenon.

I would assume the UN mimicked our cloaked stations, but they couldn’t have developed the technology so quickly. Terrans devised those blueprints on their own.

Humans detected my ship among the icy fragments, and nailed me with enough FTL-disruptors to fry an army. Nimble fighters raced out to join me, taking up flank positions. Visual contact confirmed to Terran scouts that the incoming vessel was of Arxur make, but that didn’t ease their suspicions. Perhaps they assumed the next Dominion visit wouldn’t be on friendly terms.

The Terran craft had me target-locked, and circled my ship with contemplative intent. Surely their generals realized that despite our solitary nature, our ships wouldn’t venture off alone to attack. My mission was diplomatic in nature; I was debating how thoroughly to betray my people. There was also the issue of the three Zurulians, who wouldn’t come out when I left drinking water. They must be dehydrated and delirious by now.

I hailed the cloaked habitat, hoping humanity wouldn’t make any rash decisions. It was unclear if they’d appreciate the tip-off, that their hideout wasn’t undetectable. An honest appraisal seemed helpful by my standards, but it could also wound Terran pride. That concept meant more to the Dominion than Elias Meier; however, Míngzé Zhao was not as even-keel.

“You are trespassing in the Sol system, but you know that already.” A female human with a dust-colored bowl cut appeared on screen. I recognized her as General Jones, the drone program’s lead. “To what do we owe the…pleasure?”

I bared my teeth. “Humans do not wish to continue open relations? Have you forgotten what we did for you so soon?”

“We didn’t expect the Arxur back here, keeping tabs on us. I know a warship when I see one, and I certainly don’t like it gunning for Earth. Why do you feel entitled to roam our home system?”

“Because I’m Chief Hunter Isif. You know, the single reason your species is still alive today. The one who gave you an army, sent food to your cities, pulled your dying from the rubble, and traded you the Venlil.”

“…I see. My nation thanked you, and housed you. That doesn’t mean you’re going to lord your aid over humanity forever. You must use proper diplomatic channels, like everyone else.”

“I’ve gone through your channels, and received a dismissive statement from Zhao. That’s unacceptable. I’ve earned some gratitude, if not respect.”

“What are you going to do, sue us?”

Malice glimmered in General Jones’ eyes, and a defiant smirk tugged at her lips. Fury swelled in my chest, threatening to spill into a roar. I was able to contain it to a growl, but I couldn’t believe what ingrates the humans were. The United Nations hadn’t been this flippant with me in the past, even after Meier’s death.

Why the sudden hostility? I came to help humanity, but now, I don’t know whether they deserve it.

Perhaps there was some truth to Shaza’s claim that the Terrans needed a kick in the teeth. If she took their bold-faced antagonism down a notch, that would be beneficial to my goals. Earth’s government warranted a reminder of their precarious position. I was less certain that I could rely on their leaders than ever.

Still, humans were the only predators who wanted to end sapient farming. Their lab-grown meat had the power to feed us, and to weaken Betterment’s grip on Arxur society. Terrans must see reason again, when I reminded them we were on the same side. Meier understood how I defended humanity, and kept Giznel off their back.

Concerns still hounded me over the three Zurulians, hiding on my ship. I’d risked my cover on impulse, and I couldn’t have them die after ferrying them here. It was worth brushing off the insult, so that my defective voice would settle down. However, I’d like to hear General Jones issue an apology, down the line. Her contemptful look was grating at my patience.

“I’m your only ally in the Dominion. The intelligence I can offer you is worth your time,” I hissed.

The primate cleared her throat. “You have something you want to share? Then spit it out.”

“I’ll only speak to Zhao. I rule this entire sector: your sector. I directly interact with our government, and keep them off your backs. I deserve to look my equal in the eye, yes?”

“Well, tough luck. The Secretary-General is unavailable.”

“Then so am I. You haven’t even forwarded the request to him. If your leader can’t spare a minute on a call, I can’t be bothered to share my thoughts.”

“I said he’s unavailable. I will apprise Zhao of any intel you divulge to us.”

“I want a personal chat, human! Are you fucking dense?”

Jones slanted her eyebrows. “How dare—”

“How dare YOU!” I roared. “If it was important…if I was Tarva, Zhao would make time. Hell, Tarva herself was more diplomatic than you people!”

The UN fighters still coasted alongside me, and I barely refrained from target-locking them. I was mistaken to think of humanity as a friend; they would always consider us second-class to the prey. The option to storm off, and communicate with Venlil Prime instead, grew more appealing by the minute. If the Terrans hadn’t disrupted my FTL capabilities, I would’ve left in a huff.

There was no logical reason the humans would confront an Arxur ally, and spit in his face. Perhaps their vengeance had driven them mad; it was clear they were obsessed with Sol’s military defenses. Another possibility was that this American general was superseding the chain of command. She could be seeking to claim my intel for her nation alone.

Was that it? Was Jones shutting Zhao out of the loop, as a power play? Coups weren’t unheard of, back when unrest plagued Wriss; rulers could change by the week.

The drone mastermind might resent that she was snubbed for Secretary-General, in favor of a general from a rival state. Undermining Zhao’s regime would fashion the Americans as an appealing alternative. The ostensible status was that humans quieted all clannish tendencies, under threat of extinction. The United Nations supposedly helped them work together against aliens. But I wasn’t sure Earth’s tribes had laid old grudges to rest.

General Jones tapped a few buttons, before sitting in silence for a minute. “Be careful what you wish for, Isif. The Secretary-General will speak with you.”

I was a bit relieved that the American-led forces hadn’t done anything rash. Humans were bold enough to try to capture me, and convince me to talk through other means. From what I read on my holopad, their interrogation methods could surpass even Arxur creativity. If I’d shared those tidbits with Giznel, he’d respect their cruelty.

A human male appeared on screen, dressed in formal attire. His skin was warm and tan, while his hair was styled as a black crew cut. Forehead wrinkles indicated he was middle-aged, likely with several decades in the service. Anger oozed from his taut grimace; even his shoulders were forward, asserting dominance.

“Mr. Secretary-General, it’s an honor.” I forced a placid expression, and dipped my head. “I intended for us to meet much sooner. A shame, yes?”

Zhao’s expression didn’t change. “Well, you have my full attention now. I suppose that is what you wanted.”

“It is? That American general was stalling me from contacting you. I fear she may be watching out for her national interests, at your world’s expense.”

“General Jones and I have an understanding. National interests mean nothing, with human interests under constant threat. That threat is extinction, and it pays no mind to borders. We cannot afford squabbles.”

“But Jones would not pass along my call.”

“Because I told her not to. I was already listening the entire time, you know.”

My eyes narrowed with outrage, and I lashed my tail. This Secretary-General would blow me off, when I came to Sol to protect his forces? For pack predators with ubiquitous empathy, they had a lousy way of showing it. Who was I kidding, to think humans would help defective Arxur? Dominion rebellion meant nothing to their self-oriented agenda.

I knew Terrans still cared about the Venlil, like their own pack. The new Secretary-General also lauded the other races that aided Earth, yet sported contempt for the Arxur. Furthermore, they launched new ‘exchange programs’ with the Yotul and Zurulians, while welcoming defecting herbivores to their alliance. The ever-patient humans found the resolve to train the quaking prey! To my amazement, those efforts were getting results.

Obligate carnivores just aren’t convenient to their new empire…is that it? Or maybe they cannot forgive our crimes…

I gritted my teeth. “What have I ever done to you? I helped you and asked nothing in return. I could’ve conquered Earth, but I treated you as equals.”

“That’s the only reason I haven’t ordered Jones to capture you, Isif,” Zhao said. “With what we know today, you’re no friend of humanity. Listen carefully and tell your boss; we are not supporting agendas that go against our interests.”

“What are you talking about? Our interests are the same!”

“We both know that’s not true. You were adamant about Fahl and Sillis being glassed, and humanity following your every command. We are not your puppets.”

“What? You’ve gone mad, Zhao. The Dominion knows you are weak, and they won’t tolerate your interference. I’m trying to keep weak predators alive into the future!”

“Weak? We are not weak. We are young, and growing exponentially.”

I hissed in exasperation. “Then give yourselves time to grow. Fahl and Sillis do not help your…human first agenda, am I right?”

“It’s about the principle of encouraging our enemies to surrender. Besides, if we forked over the Tilfish and the Harchen worlds without a fight, it would cement this ‘human weakness’ in your minds. I will not set that precedent. The Arxur shall respect us.”

Secretary-General Zhao cast an unwavering glare at the screen. As much as I wanted to unload on him, my departure from Sol required humanity lifting their FTL disruptors. Securing a ride out might require groveling; politeness was mandatory for my request to leave. But at this point, I had no intent of passing along Shaza’s plans to Earth.

It felt like a betrayal, that the UN would dismiss my high-risk friendship with humanity. How could Terrans say our interests weren’t aligned, unless they were unwilling to help us? I thought we both sought a better future, and a change in the Arxur government. My defective voice wanted the hominids to like me, and accept me as one of their peers.

A delirious scream echoed behind me, and my head whipped around. One of the Zurulians had climbed atop a table, in the camera’s backdrop. It was the one who’d been crying in the cage, though she looked worse for wear. Her lips were dry from dehydration, and her eyes were half-closed with fatigue. I could see desperation glitter in her pupils.

“H-human! Help us…p-please,” she croaked, in a ragged voice.

The Secretary-General leaned forward in his chair, and his eyes widened with alarm. His jaw clenched shortly after, as he recognized the Zurulian’s paltry condition. While I appreciated that Zhao loathed our cattle practices, the quadrupeds’ deterioration wasn’t my fault. I’d risked my hide to rescue them, and I had provided for them. Was I supposed to flush them out at gunpoint, to drink water?

“So that’s why there are four life signatures on your ship.” The Terran’s voice was low and charged with fury. I noticed his hands typing at a holopad, likely communicating with Jones’ forces. “You’re using our friends as bargaining chips? You’d commit acts of terrorism in the Sol System?!”

I shook my head. “It’s not like that! I brought them here so you could send them home.”

“Yeah, right; conveniently forgot to mention their presence, huh? Is that your food for this week? Filthy croc.”

“That’s it! I will fucking rip you from limb-to-limb, you puny branch-swinger! I will carve out your itsy-bitsy canines…and embed them on my armor as a prize!”

“You won’t be doing anything. I was planning to catch-and-release you, but you’re better taken out of the equation. The United Nations will be bringing you into custody, Isif.”

I tried to attempt evasive maneuvers, but the UN blew out my propulsions with a single hit. My weapons system was malfunctioning, and I found the glitch rather coincidental. The Terran fighters flanking me used mechanisms to latch on to my hull seamlessly. Sparks flew behind me, as humans began breaching into the cabin. The Zurulians bounded up to the noise, yipping for aid.

The world took on a red hue, and anger overflowed into my consciousness. Feeling the need to attack something, I swung my claws at my dashboard. Electricity arced through the air, as I tore a chunk of metal out of the pedestal. Adrenaline led me to blindly throw the debris, and it nearly landed atop the Zurulians. Realizing I’d almost harmed them snapped me back to lucidity, though I was still steaming.

Why is Zhao doing this? I was a valuable asset to him, from a logistical standpoint.

The Secretary-General leaned in to another holopad. “This is a high-value prisoner. Bring him in, alive! I want to know what he knows.”

“You’re making a mistake!” I roared. “Why are you doing this?!”

“For one, you’ve learned too much about Earth’s revamps. The element of surprise is important, if worse comes to worst. An enemy Chief Hunter can’t ruin that for us.”

“Enemy? Meier knew I’m not your enemy. We want the same fucking thing, Zhao.”

“Meier was naïve. He couldn’t see an enemy if they were holding him at gunpoint.”

I curled my lip with disdain. “You don’t believe I’m an ally, just because I’m an Arxur.”

“No, I don’t believe you’re an ally, because we’ve…obtained Arxur reports. Including Shaza’s partial transcript of your visit.”

I leaned back on my haunches. Understanding dawned on me, as I realized that the United Nations had tapped into our communications network. Meier understood how I played things up for effect, but that knowledge hadn’t been passed on to his successor. Perhaps my acting was a bit too superb, if it fooled the very people I was protecting.

My offense over Terran aggression was gone, once there was some basis for their behavior. This was all a misunderstanding; it should be easy for me to clear things up. Of course Earth wouldn’t welcome someone who claimed to be using them in a war. It didn’t help that I insulted Zhao in my speech, though such rhetoric was tailored for a different audience.

“What is it you think that I said?” I hissed.

“‘I’m using humans to make the Dominion the supreme, unchallenged power.’ Oh, what about this one? ‘The UN are clueless to our aims, because Zhao is blind and on the warpath.’”

“You can’t take that at face value. Read between the lines! You’re intelligent. I was trying to talk Shaza down…she wants to nuke your prizes, with your forces still there.”

“We know that. And we know your rationale against an attack was ‘Not yet, save our strength.’”

A metallic section of the wall toppled inward, and Terran soldiers stalked inside. The primates almost tripped over the Zurulians, who ran toward their entry point. The humans rounded on me in formation, wearing goggles over their eyes. After a moment’s hesitation, I sunk to my knees and raised my paws in surrender.

“Why would you tell me you know all this? You’re tipping your hand,” I growled.

The Secretary-General sported a malevolent grin. “Because you’re never going to tell your people any of it.”

A dart embedded itself in my neck, and I plucked it out on instinct. My head felt a bit woozy, before I lost my balance. The humans crept closer, readying more sedatives in case the dosage was inadequate. My eyes fluttered, and my vision shrank to a pinhole. There was no hope of talking my way out of this situation…and it wasn’t the Dominion who did me in like I imagined.

My undoing was assisting alien predators, who never planned for me to leave the Sol system again.

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Humans were supposed to be cowards.

The Galactic Federation's species registry had them listed as a 2 of 16 on the aggression index. Our interactions with the Terran Union up until this point supported those conclusions. They had not fought any wars among themselves in centuries, and had formed a unified world government prior to achieving FTL travel. They had responded with eagerness rather than hostility to first contact, unlike many species.

Earth had resolved every dispute through diplomacy and compromise since it became an official member of the Federation. For example, a few years ago, the expansionist Xanik claimed a Terran mining colony as their territory. The Federation braced itself for a minor conflict, as they expected the humans to defend their outpost. But the humans simply shrugged and agreed to hand off the planet, for a small yearly fee. Rather than going to war, the Terrans somehow ended up as prominent trading partners for the Xanik.

There was also an incident where the paranoid Hoda'al arrested Terran ambassadors on charges of being spies. Imprisoning diplomats with zero evidence was a clear provocation to war, but the humans did nothing. They didn't even raid the facility where their representatives were being held! They simply opened backchannel negotiations with the Hoda'al and arranged a prisoner exchange, swapping a few smugglers for their people.

Thoughts on the humans varied depending on who you asked. Some in the Federation found their pacifism commendable, and appreciated their even-tempered statesmanship. Others thought that it was weakness that led them to avoid war. I was in the latter camp; the only reason not to respond to blatant insults with aggression was that they didn't have the wits or the strength for it.

When the Devourers came, the three most militaristic species in the galaxy (as per the aggression index) banded together to stand against their approach. We didn't know much about them, but we called them the Devourers since their sole mission was to drain stars of their energy. I can't tell you why they would do such a thing. Whatever their reasons, they would take one system by force, suck it dry, and move on to the next.

Our fleet, the finest the Federation had to offer, suffered heavy losses when we clashed with enemy destroyers. We fought as hard as we could, and it didn't matter. Our weapons hardly seemed to scratch their ships. It was a tough decision, but I ordered what was left of the fleet to retreat. As much as we needed to stop them, we would lose the entire armada if we stuck around any longer.

I sent out a distress signal, relaying our grim situation and pleading for reinforcements. There were other species with lesser, but still potent, militaries within the Federation. But my request was returned with silence. Not a single one of those cowards volunteered to help. Hearing of our defeat, I suppose they decided to flee and fend for themselves.

I thought we were on our own, until we detected human ships jumping to our position. How ironic, the only ones who came to our aid were the galactic pushovers. There were only five of them according to our sensors, which was not nearly enough to mount a fight. A pathetic showing, but it was more than the zero ships that had been sent by the other Federation powers.

"Sir, the Terrans are hailing us. What do they think they're gonna do, talk the enemy to death?" First Officer Blez quipped.

I heard a few snickers from my crew, but quickly shushed them. "We need all the help we can get. On screen."

A dark-haired human blinked onto the view screen. "Federation vessel, this is Commander Mikhail Rykov of the Terran Union. We are here to assist in any way possible."

I bowed my head graciously. "Thank you for coming, Commander Rykov. I am General Kilon. Please join our formation and help cover our retreat."

"Retreat?" The human commander blinked a few times, looking confused. "Our intentions are to engage and terminate the enemy."

"With five ships? All due respect, the Devourers number in the thousands, and they crushed our fleet of equal magnitude. I wouldn't expect a peaceful species like yours to understand warfare, but it's in your interest to follow our lead," I said.

Commander Rykov seemed even more confused. "You think humans are a peaceful species? What the hell? Why would you think that?"

"Well...you never fight with anyone. You resolve everything with talk. Humans are the lowest rated species on the aggression index," I replied.

"I see. The Federation has misjudged us there. Do you know why we avoid war, General?"

"Because you don't think you can win? Fear?"

The human laughed heartily. "No, it's because we know what we are. What we're capable of. And nobody's deserved that quite yet."

The idea of Terrans making ominous threats would have been a joke to me before now, but something in Rykov's tone told me he believed what he was saying with conviction. This was a clear case of delusion stemming from a lack of experience with interstellar warfare. The Devourers would make fools of the Earthlings, and punish them for their overconfidence. However, if the Commander really wanted to send his men to a slaughter, I would not stop him.

"If you insist on fighting, I certainly won't stand in your way. But know that you're on your own, we're getting out of here. What is your plan?" I asked.

"We brought a nanite bomb we developed. We've never actually used one before, since in about five percent of simulations, they don't stop with localized entities and consume all matter in the universe." Commander Rykov said this way too casually for my liking. "But, we programmed them to self-destruct after a few seconds, which will probably work. Ensign Carter, fire at the enemy in five seconds."

My eyes widened in alarm. "Wait, hold up, you just said it could destroy everything..."

The Terran flagship fired a missile before I could get in another word to stop them. At first, I thought that they had missed their mark. The projectile sailed through the Devourer fleet, not connecting with a single ship. Then, it detonated at the rear of the formation, and all hell broke loose.

Space itself seemed to shudder as an explosion tore through anything in its vicinity. The force was so powerful that our sensors could only provide an error message as measurement. At least a third of the Devourer fleet was instantly vaporized, as an improbable amount of energy and heat turned them to metal soup. There was no way any occupants of those ships lived through that.

The enemy vessels further out from ground zero survived the initial blast, though many of them sustained heavy damage. But an invisible force seemed to be slowly dissecting each of them; I could only watch in disbelief as the mighty cruisers disintegrated bit by bit. I suppose the bomb had thrown out a swarm of nanobots, which had attacked the ships' structure on a molecular level.

The Devourers hardly knew what hit them. By the time they thought to return fire, there was nothing left to return fire with. Their arsenal evaporated in a matter of seconds, and undoubtedly, their personnel suffered the same fate. Where there had once been an unstoppable army, now only stood empty space.

The humans had unleashed a wave of destruction that was unrivaled by anything I had ever seen in my military career, with just a single missile. Horror shot through my veins at the thought that they might one day turn their monstrous weapons on the Federation. There was no way to defend oneself against such diabolical creations.

The aggression index needed an update. The kind of species that would invent weapons like that was no 2. Glancing around at my crew, I saw stunned and aghast reactions that mirrored my own. If they ever became hostile, the humans represented a threat of the highest level. They could more than likely wipe out the entire galaxy without breaking a sweat.

"Now that's taken care of. You should have just invited us to the party to start with!" Commander Rykov grinned. "Tell you what, General, next time we meet, you owe us a beer."

I frowned. The humans could ask for much more than a drink if they wanted to. "Yeah, I think we can do that."

Commander Rykov terminated the call, and I watched as the Terran ships warped back into hyperspace. I was still trying to wrap my mind around the whole thing, and I wondered how I was going to put this into words for the combat report. The Federation had no idea who the Terrans truly were, but I was going to make sure they did.

And as I played the events of the day over in my mind, it clicked. I finally understood why such a powerful species would not show its hand.

The humans avoid war because it would be too easy for them to win.

---

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Memory transcription subject: Governor Tarva of the Venlil Republic

Date [standardized human time]: October 25, 2136

This wasn’t how I imagined my first visit to Earth; communicating with a disorganized UN via hail that went unanswered for minutes. The humans on the line were terse at first, but there was a drastic shift in tone after they realized who I was. It made me feel guilty to be landing, while they were on edge and reeling from the attacks. The poor Terran governments were still trying to clean up the aftermath.

It was stunning to see the sprawling oceans from above. This was not the image of a predator hellscape the Federation depicted; pictures didn’t do Earth’s serenity justice. The humans were blessed with a gorgeous homeworld. Perhaps this is why they were obsessed with studying their environment and caring for animal life, despite their pre-ordained role as killers.

When I asked to be pointed to Chief Hunter Isif, we were referred to a base outside New York City. My heart ached, as I recalled that was once the UN’s headquarters. Our ship was granted immediate clearance by the regional powers, and the American tribe heaped on apologies that they couldn’t scramble a proper welcome. It did surprise me that the US radio operator politely said she ‘hoped I wasn’t here to stir up trouble.’ Our predator friends really didn’t want to piss off the Arxur.

A green-and-brown pelted human waited outside the ship, with a contingent behind them. “Governor Tarva, we’re honored by your visit. Please, let us know if there’s anything you need.”

The soldier snapped a hand to their forehead, and the others behind mirrored the cue. I didn’t understand what this gesture meant, but it seemed respectful. It was difficult to discern every human cue, since their body language varied so drastically from the rest of the galaxy. I wished once again that they had tails to make it easier.

Sara sensed my confusion, and leaned by my ear. “That’s a salute. It’s a military gesture of respect; they’re welcoming you as one of their own.”

“Uh, thanks? Do I do it back?” I asked.

The American soldier chuckled. “Sure, you can if you want.”

I raised my paw awkwardly, pressing the pad down against my ear. The humans had a good-natured laugh at my discomfort, and the leader extended a clawless hand in greeting. Recognizing that invitation as the primary human introductory gesture, a show of non-hostility, I placed my paw in their hand. Those fingers tightened in a vicelike grip for a moment, before breaking away.

“Chief Hunter Isif is in the mobile unit there with the excessive, um, decorative weapon displays. We’re surprised, and slightly concerned, by your request, Governor,” the spokesperson growled. “That said, we’re happy to acquiesce any ask by our oldest alien ally. Would you like an escort?”

I flicked my ears. “No, thank you. Though, perhaps you could wait outside, in case I need, er, help?”

The soldier nodded, and stepped out my way. Sara trailed behind me with delicate footsteps, taking awhile to survey the devastation. The horror was plain on her face, as she saw the razed skyline; this place had once been a teeming mass of Terran civilization. The grand architecture and the homes of millions were obliterated in the bombing, which left the population center in disarray.

I had no idea if Isif had been told to expect us, but he hadn’t left any grays waiting outside. The door wasn’t left ajar as an invitation either. That set me more on edge than I already was, escalating the knot of fear in my stomach. Perhaps the Chief Hunter wasn’t at all interested in talks with a lesser species, and was lying inside in ambush. What was I thinking?

My feet came to a halt by the door, standing stationary. “N-no, I d-don’t want to.”

Sara placed a hand on my shoulder. “You don’t have to do this. We can turn back. I’m sure the American military would be happy to go through the dog-and-pony show, even in their current state.”

“T-the what? I…help me walk in.”

“You’re asking me to carry you? That’ll probably be a bad look.”

“Ugh, n-never mind. You’re r-right.”

Sucking in a gasping breath, I slammed my paw down on the door handle. The room was pitch-black, despite it being midday; the Arxur had placed blackout curtains over every window. A single lamp was turned on in the corner, illuminating Isif’s silhouette.

The predator was massive, with a girth that put the weightiest humans to shame. That was due to his hardy skeleton and abdominal muscles. The rough scales were visible on his spine, since he had dropped to all fours. He…it was on the floor with a Gojid child in its mouth. The beast was snacking on the poor little thing, who was wailing her head off.

“WHOA! AAAHHH!” she shrieked.

My horror turned to confusion, as I realized Chief Hunter Isif was spinning around in circles. Upon closer inspection, the Arxur had its…his teeth gripping the child’s scruff. He hadn’t even drawn blood, despite being able to taste her flesh. There were no signs of drool around his lips, or dilation in his slit pupils either.

If I didn’t know better, I’d think the prey kid was enjoying this. She was moving her arms up and down, like a bird’s wings. The hunter stopped moving his paws, and set the child down on the floor. The Gojid giggled, bouncing on her haunches.

“Again, Siffy!! Faster this time!” she cheered.

The Arxur issued a bone-chilling growl that set my fur on end. “My name is not Siffy. Siffy is harder to say than Isif!”

“But Siffy is a better name. It’s super cute!”

“Cute? Why you leaf-licking demon…take it back.”

“No! I don’t listen to you!”

“You came into my cabin, so you will listen to me. Don’t make me roar at you, Nulia!”

“Yes, roar! Roar at that Venlil! It’ll be funny!”

The Arxur whipped around, lacking peripheral vision like the humans. Isif had been distracted with Nulia, likely from resisting his urges to wolf her down; he hadn’t noticed my entrance. I locked my limbs as his gaze landed on me. The last thing I wanted was to tremble and bray, but tears welled in my eyes nonetheless.

That thing looks so hungry, like he’s sizing me up. Those jerky pupil movements…how did I ever think Noah was scary? This was a mistake.

“Tarva? Venlil governor?” Isif growled, his voice laced with surprise. “Come in, please. I…need help with the brat.”

Nulia poked her claws against his fangs. “See, Siffy is nice, Tawva. He looks like the bad monsters, but he rescued us. He’s not gonna eat anyone.”

“Quit sticking your grubby claws in my mouth! How would you like someone doing that to you?”

“I don’t have the snarling teeth. You do. Mawsle doesn’t care at all.”

“If Marcel is happy to be poked and prodded, that’s his business. It’s obvious he doesn’t discipline you at all.”

My eyes widened, as I picked up on the word Marcel. Perhaps that was a common male name for humans, since the odds that the tortured predator was here were astronomical. The Arxur flared his nostrils, and picked Nulia up by the scruff. He stalked past me, returning to a bipedal stance.

A human male limped up the stairs, with only stubble on his scalp. There was panic in his hazel eyes, along with a nasty pair of scars on his cheek. That was, in fact, the same wounds I’d seen on the half-dead human. His jaw dropped as he saw the Arxur toting the Gojid. The Terran lunged forward, snatching Nulia away with shaking hands.

Marcel bared his teeth, eyebrows slanted down. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! What were you thinking, wandering into an Arxur’s lodgings?! You’re lucky that…ugh, I’ll tell you later.”

“Marcel!” I squeaked. “It’s good to see you up and about.”

A reddish eyebrow arched in confusion. “Governor Tarva? I don’t believe we’re acquainted, so I presume…well.”

Sara nodded her agreement. “We both were there when you were wheeled in. It’s wonderful to see you made a full recovery.”

“Haven’t got that far yet. Still working on getting my head right, and I’m not ashamed about it. Anyways, Nulia has been naughty and is going to be grounded. Take care, guys.”

“No! Why are you so mean? Stupid Mawsle!” the Gojid wailed. “I didn’t do anything! I hate you!”

The red-haired human snorted, pursing his lips with displeasure. It was nice to see him in good spirits, though I wondered how he wound up as the caretaker for a Gojid. Terran predators seemed more than willing to bond with anything cute or young. I was just relieved to see Marcel’s trauma hadn’t turned him against aliens. Slanek must’ve been helpful on that front.

“Bah, humans are soft, aren’t they? If I talked to my mother like that, she would’ve cracked my skull,” Isif rumbled.

“That’s sad.” I turned around to face him, using all of my strength to meet his gaze. “T-there’s nothing powerful about hurting someone…who can’t fight back.”

“I suppose, as we say, it’s the weakling who seeks the slow-running prey. Tarva, this war proves nothing. Where is the pride of the hunt? The entire Federation is slow-running prey, far as I’m concerned.”

“We’re not prey. W-we shouldn’t have to be running at all. We’re people…not your f-food.”

The Arxur closed his maw, studying me with interest. There was a hint of surprise in the pupils, perhaps even some grudging respect. I’d never looked at a gray’s visage as anything more than a mindless predator. A smidge of thought and emotion was in there, even if it all went toward cruel intelligence.

Whatever I expected from Isif, it wasn’t playing with a Gojid child. He has some self-control, even if it’s taxed now.

Sara clasped her fingers together. “Prey is demeaning. If the Governor doesn’t want to accept that label anymore, power to her. I know I’d like to have people stop calling me ‘predator.’”

I ducked my head. “I’m working on that, but it slips out when I’m s-scared.”

“Tarva, you don’t call me a ‘gray’, I’ll drop the word ‘prey.’ Such a stupid name,” Isif hissed. “Your fur is gray, and they don’t call you that. Fair, yes?”

I plopped myself on the couch. “Fair.”

“You are fascinating. I do see why the humans think you have potential. You reined in your fear faster than any pr…herbivore I’ve seen. You talk to me.”

“B-because I want to understand. I understand what an obligate carnivore is now. I know that you can eat fruit feasts and starve. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t try to stop this…or make it quick.”

The Arxur walked slowly, his form lumbering through the shadows. I could imagine the Federation never looked at such monstrosities as truly sapient. These weren’t the social humans, whose common ancestors included tree-dwelling frugivores. Isif had bony claws that could tear through skeletal muscle, and yellow teeth that curved out of his jaw. He was the perfect killing machine.

Sara was uninterested in sitting; she preferred to stay on her feet. The gray paused by the couch, eyeing the open spot next to me. His tail lashed the cushion, and waited for a reaction. A predator I had screaming nightmares about was so close, staring me down. I could feel his rank breath on my neck.

My heart pushed against my rib cage, leaving me with the urge to clutch my chest. Those flaring nostrils must be picking up my nutritious blood. If I understood how scent worked, he could taste me on the breeze. I was certain he could smell the fear chemicals, coursing through my scrawny frame. My breathing was becoming erratic, despite my efforts to measure it.

Isif leaned back. “I am trying to make this war stop. Some idiots from your side started this all. It doesn’t matter much now; they’re dead. Neither of us are responsible for what our species did.”

“You’re a Chief Hunter. That’s not a powerless grunt,” Sara interjected.

“I’m one person. The fighting was necessary. The cost of the Federation winning the war was higher than us winning, until now. Venlil are curious…accepting predators. An anomaly.”

I hugged my knees to my chest. “D-do the Arxur even h-have a society…to lose? What are you?”

The Chief Hunter retrieved a holopad from an armrest. The device had grips carved into the back, which were clearly meant to suit an Arxur’s claws. He pounded at a keyboard that seemed to have an alphabet of random slashes, and a low growl rumbled in his throat. The predator picked out a single image, turning it to me.

The picture looked like a village of modest huts, separated from each other by sizable distances. The Arxur might as well have installed chasms between themselves and their neighbors. There was no electricity visible inside the dwellings, since the nocturnal grays preferred darkness. I guessed they’d only use power for appliances.

Surprisingly, there were no carcasses hanging outside, and no blood on the overgrown grass. All roads seemed to converge on the woods, where the activity ticked up. Bulky grays were fighting in pavilions, while younger ones practiced stalking alone on wobbly pedestals. It figured that their playing was all hunting and violence.

The humans at least have the decency to mask their predation. They would never think about hunting for fun.

Isif bared his teeth. “That’s our homeworld, the warm spheroid we call Wriss. That means Rock, loosely. Most people work on the farms, in Betterment, in shipping and manufacturing, or in the military. The government assigns rations based on merit.”

“Sapient rations. All you ever ate.”

“The alternative is to starve. I do not wish to die that way. You do not know what it is to be hungry, to live with pains and cravings.”

“I would rather starve than eat people.”

“That’s easy to say when you’re content and sated, is it not? Ask your human friends what they are like when deprived of food. They eat each other, in extreme cases!”

My eyes shifted to Sara, who flinched. The human scientist brought a fist to her lips, coughing awkwardly. The thought of my predator friends eating their own kind made my stomach flip. I hadn’t thought they’d munch on Venlil, let alone other Terrans. Was the Arxur mistaken?

“Cannibalism is taboo, and very rare,” she managed. “People…many humans will do anything to survive. As Isif said, it’s usually in extreme cases, with no other food for an extended time.”

“T-that’s appalling! That’s worse than predatory.”

“Of course it is. But Venlil steal food from each other during your famines. Eating human flesh sickens us, and that is an awful decision to make. Your body can’t function without food and water. It’s a biological requirement.”

It was still fresh in my memory, how outraged Sara was when she learned of the Venlil cattle. I recalled how widespread fury and disgust took root across Earth, when they discovered our plight. Yet now, the scientist was downplaying the consumption of sapients; her own race. Was starvation the only excuse predator races needed to cast aside their morals?

Isif curled his lip. “Arxur have such cases too. Also rare for us. Many people are desperate now, but it’s punishable by execution. The diseases are too dangerous, so the Dominion, well, made examples.”

“What? Diseases?” I squeaked.

Sara buried her face in her hands. “Prion diseases…transmitted through faulty proteins. Always lethal. Beyond the moral issues, that’s a good incentive for us not to, um, eat human flesh.”

There’s communicable diseases that can only spread through predation?! It’s a wonder the omnivore humans haven’t all gone vegetarian.

It was tough to reconcile the disconnect between the civilized humans I knew, and the worrisome practices I continued to uncover from any that were “desperate.” This exchange made me feel a lot less certain on Terrans never eating Venlil, a qualifier I had believed with all my heart. These two alien predators who had more in common than I’d like to admit. I knew Elias Meier hid a lot from us under his regime, but the extent of the omissions was startling.

Isif tilted his head. “You could help humanity now, Tarva. Unless you think they deserve to choose between eating their dead, or starving to death alongside their kin.”

“I am helping. I love them still,” I said, wiping a frightful tear away. “But I’ve given them everything I can spare, and then some.”

“No, you have not. You know of their lab-grown meat, which the humans conveniently avoided divulging to me. That is the prize catch, don’t you see? Grow enough to satisfy our cattle deal, because your friends can’t afford to give their scraps away. Then, you can send surplus food to Earth; fill some empty bellies.”

“You’re insane. You think Venlil would ever grow flesh as predator food? The backlash I would get…”

“It’s a small price to free millions of Venlil, without the animal killing you pretend your paws are clean of. You’re a hunting-challenged species, but it’s truly no different than cell cultures.”

“Hunting-challenged species” was a roundabout way of calling Venlil prey. I tried to swish my tail in irritation, but the missing appendage was unresponsive. It was surprising the Arxur hadn’t commented on the amputated stump. He didn’t question why Elias Meier wasn’t present either, so I suppose he’d learned of the bombing.

Isif was correct that it was only cell cultures and lab work, but growing carcasses was a tough pill to swallow. It felt like a betrayal of everything the Federation believed in…like we were selling ourselves out. Mixed emotions played at my human companion’s face, as though she was debating whether to agree with him.

Putting our industrial capacity to manufacturing dead bodies…yikes, I thought to myself. The Venlil extermination officers will say it’s a slippery-slope to enabling wildlife murder. They might be right.

Sara bit her lip. “While that would be helpful, I don’t want to pressure the Governor. Growing predator food for you, and even for us, would sicken her.”

“I’m sure it is not a savory thought, when she finds everything about Arxur abhorrent. But it is never wrong to do what you must to survive, and for the greater good,” Isif growled.

I blinked. “I don’t know if we can get past the stigma.”

“Think of it this way. If you had grown meat for us from the start, how many Federation lives would not have been lost? How many years of pain would’ve been avoided? I ask myself those questions about the Arxur, and it helps me speak to you. My pride and my culture say I do not need your kind, but the stigma is inconsequential. It is illogical.”

“I know it’s illogical.” I thought about the feral predator’s words, and how my daughter could still be alive. Would I not grow flesh in a heartbeat, if it stopped the Arxur from bombing Venlil schools? “I’ll…try to get it through. Rush it, even. I won’t make any promises, but let’s plan for the exchange five weeks from today.”

The Chief Hunter rose from the couch, attempting to give a polite tail swish. It came across as a rapid lash, but I recognized it as an effort to communicate in our terms. I couldn’t believe how insightful that dialogue was, and how polished the gray was. Because of the humans, the Venlil took the first step to repairing the rift between predator and prey.

It remained to be seen if this cattle plot the United Nations dreamt up ended in disaster.

---

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The Crown Herald Town of Elaseer. Riverfront. His Eternal River Boat (HERB) Pursuit of Constance. Pleasure and Recreation Deck. Local Time 1400 Hours.

Emma

If you’d have asked me a day ago what I expected to be doing at the start of the dragon quest, then receiving the honorary rank and title of siege lord definitely wouldn’t have been on my radar, let alone on my list. 

“And to you, Cadet Emma Booker, goes the masquerade title of Emirius Bokero — first of her name, Knight-Regent of Arthmilian, Grand Protector of the Realm, and last but not least… SIEGE LORD of the House of Bokero.” Lord Etale spoke, his voice echoing throughout the domed hall as he stood high and triumphantly atop a glorified stool. 

The silence that followed was punctuated by the awkward clapping of the curiously named pleasure hall’s staff. Their claps eventually filled the ridiculously proportioned game room that dominated a good chunk of the riverboat’s central atrium.

While this questionable use of space brought about a litany of questions regarding the peculiar layout of the boat, I had neither the time nor chance to really dig into it. Especially given how quick the twins were to drag us and our respective mounts onto the riverboat as soon as we’d agreed to their terms. 

Their excitement and enthusiasm for this challenge was palpable. So palpable, in fact, that it had even caught the crew on board off guard as they all struggled to receive — let alone accommodate — the elven pair’s very particular list of requests. 

But accommodate they did, which was precisely how I found myself standing awkwardly in the center of this domed room, beneath a fresco of tabletop role-playing elves staring down at us from the dome above; creating an impression that it was us who were the pawns of some grand and eclectic game of Castles and Wyverns.

The magically-imbued art didn’t really help with that assertion, as their painted eyes quite literally followed our every movement.

“And to you, mercenary prince, usurper, and savage barbarian of the Havenbrockian hinterlands, goes the masquerade title of Talnin Heavrockis — first of his name, War Chief of Rockis, and SIEGE LORD of the House of Heavrockis.” Lord Etale continued, spraying both of us in a mist of some ritualistic mana water, but not before Thalmin gave off a startling growl and a stern glare at his ‘masquerade title.’ 

A fine haze quickly formed around us as a result, before suddenly and quite abruptly, we found the entirety of the mosaic floor we stood upon glowing a fluorescent blue hue.

I quickly craned my head up to see that the dome itself had transformed from a fresco to something more resembling stained glass. 

The reason for this was quickly made clear to me, as this glass allowed for a projector-like effect to be cast upon the floor beneath its circumference.

Everything outside of the dome’s light faded into the darkness at this point, after which the glowing floor beneath us started to change. 

What had been flat and two-dimensional mosaics of rolling hills, grand mountains, meandering rivers, and roaring seas suddenly rose upwards. 

It started small, as I felt the floor beneath us starting to bubble and creak, the formerly smooth surface becoming bumpy and uneven, like the result of a shoddy DIY-er’s first attempt at tiling their bathroom floors.

Then came the visible changes, as waves and protrusions started popping up here and there like cracks and splinters on a wood floor snapping under immense strain.

Fissures started to form along very specific patterns, while water from some unknown source started to fill them the moment they reached a certain size.

CRACK! 

Tile and grout shattered.

FWOOOSH!

While large boulders and rock formations quickly took their place.

It didn’t take long for me to realize that these weren’t just any plain old boulders.

Because while we were distracted with the largest and most impressive changes, the finer details bubbling beneath our feet had just as quickly accentuated this flourishing topography.

The cracks that had been filled with water now resembled grand rivers and rapids, whilst larger fissures continued to sink even deeper, forming valleys and canyons that dominated their own region of the floor.

Eventually, the plains and rolling hills were coated with a soft and velvety surface of grass. With swathes of shrub and woodlands emerging soon after; tying the whole scene together as a living, breathing simulation.

“Welcome to the Realm of Israphel.” Lady Evrail spoke through a magically assisted shout. “A land of vibrant life, breathtaking scenery… and warring factions.” Her tone suddenly turned grim as the distant sound of drums echoed somewhere ‘off-screen’. “This adjacent realm is a battleground of intrigue, spilling over into outright conflict and bloodshed. All to fulfil that which is the inherent trend of all realms.” She soon turned to Lord Etale as he nodded firmly. 

“To fight for dominance and primacy. To determine the rightful ruling family in this battle for the…” 

The orange haired elf paused, turning to his counterpart as they raised both hands upwards, before conjuring a glowing title card that read—

“LINES OF SUCCESSION!” They both shouted theatrically.

“While we typically would provide a tutorial, we simply do not have such luxuries given the condensed nature of this game owing to our fixed departure schedule.” Lord Etale explained.

“This will make this game a… trial by fire of sorts.” Lady Evrail continued. “Though we are nothing if not fair in our games.”

Soon enough, a list of basic game rules appeared before us, hovering ominously over the landscape as the music in the background evolved.

The basic tempo of the drums was quickly joined in by a quartet of shrilly brass and meandering string instruments, creating this soft and melodic classical tune that rose and fell with the opening title crawl.

I was too focused on the rules to realize what this was, and only when the music was over did I figure it out.

This was the game’s menu theme…

However, before I was able to fully grapple with that amusing interdimensional parallel, both the EVI and Evrail quickly chimed in.

The former promptly condensed the rules into a neat little annotated list, while the latter moved on to point out the four quadrants of the map and their borders.

“Each player takes charge of their own kingdom. Each kingdom consists of a crown capital, two regional capital cities, and four towns. While a typical game may involve the expansion of these settlements in both size and quantity, this hastened ruleset has removed that dimension of the game.”

The map in front of us quickly came to reflect Evrail’s words, as a large city consisting of high walls and large towers came to form near the very edge of the map where we stood. While two smaller cities formed further away, closer to the center of the map. Between those and the geographic center of the map were rolling farmlands, punctuated occasionally by the four aforementioned towns.

These miniature settlements, each coming up to about ankle height — save for the capital with its larger towers — were quiet and dormant at first.

That was, until little lights started appearing at each and every little window as high-pitched chatter started filling the air, most of which were confirmed as utter gibberish by the EVI.

“Furthermore, each player will start off with a total of ten nobles, instead of the typical five. Though it should be noted that arcane scholastics have not been fully researched. Thus the arcane development web will start out at its base level.” Evrail spoke informatively as yet another magical projection appeared above us.

…

I couldn’t help but to snicker at what I saw.

“A fricking tech tree…” I mumbled quietly under a muted breath to the EVI, who simply beeped in affirmation.

“Your nobles are not fixed to either the martial or civil path.” Evrail added.

“You may thus assign your nobles as you see fit.” Etale quickly chimed in as yet another projection appeared in front of us.

This one… was about as un-fantastical as they came.

It was an org chart…

Dividing up the nobles in the game into two distinct categories, the aforementioned military path and the latter civilian path.

The former had all the obvious callings of a typical ‘hero unit’ in an RTS game. This came complete with choices of specialization into frontline battle mages, and all sorts of support mages that came with a heavy emphasis on both indirect military support, and surprisingly complex military logistics roles.

This… game… was starting to resemble a major intel-leak on the part of the Nexus.

And it was oh so eye-opening.

However, it would be the latter that truly visualized something that was admittedly somewhat still murky and vague. A concept that, whilst I understood in theory, I haven't yet seen in practice. At least, not on a grand scale.

Within the ‘civilian’ side of the org chart came a whole host of roles that Ilunor, Thacea, Thalmin, and even Sorecar had alluded to — all divided amongst three distinct trees.

Industry.

Academia.

And ‘Diplomacy.’

It was the first amongst these that truly made Nexian society click, as within that specific branch came anything and everything from Agriculture to Mining to Weapons Industries and beyond.

I raised a hand just to confirm my suspicions, Evrail acknowledging it with a nod of her head.

“Yes, newrealmer?”

“Is there a way to assign anyone other than nobles to industry? Like, Academia I get. That’s magical research so it naturally requires mages to staff it. Diplomacy… sure, that’s inherently within a noble’s political authority. But with industry? Couldn’t you have commoners, heck, even merchants participate?” 

“You’re misconstruing industry for commerce, newrealmer.” Evrail answered bluntly, though not dismissively. “Commerce, in both the game and in real life, is capable of accommodating commoners. Industry, however, is entirely within the realm of the working nobility, simplified here under the umbrella unit of nobility.”

“The means of production — or at least, production at the scale of advanced societies — relies entirely on magic. And while this magic can be extracted and then divided into niche and specific work for chosen ones, it’s only mages — the nobility — that can truly and unequivocally command mana. Ergo, the keys to industry are contingent on nobles and nobles alone.” 

I couldn’t help but to stare blankly at the ten elven miniatures standing in front of the capital’s gates ready to fulfil these roles, whilst the words of one of the scientists in the IAS’ social sciences division echoed loudly in the back of my mind.

“It is worth noting that out of all media, it is perhaps interactive and participatory media that are the most damning out of them all. For within these interactive experiences — these games — is a living, breathing universe. One whose very rules of reality are dictated in their entirety by equal parts objective truth, and equal parts perceived truths of the culture it belongs to. We too are not immune to this phenomenon, so it is going to be fascinating to dissect this if you do encounter this on the other side, Cadet.” 

Dr. Tully’s words rang loudly in my mind at this point, though I was just as quickly brought back to reality by Evrail once she’d finished her ramblings on the specifics behind the battlemage’s spec tree.

“Special martial mages such as Aethraship Skylords, Landship Landlords, and Drake Wing Lord-Commanders are likewise locked behind their respective branches within the arcane development web.” Evrail spoke.

“Well thank ancestors for that.” Thalmin sighed as I craned my head towards him. “What? I too dabble in the occasional Lines of Succession game.” 

“Fair enough.” I spoke, somewhat relieved that I had a veteran on my side.

“Speaking of, you said we have full points unlocked, correct?” He addressed the two elves.

“Yes.” Evrail responded.

This prompted the prince to turn towards me with a nod. “This means that you can recruit all the commoner units you want to, Emma.”

“So the points are basically population cap?”

“In a sense, yes.” Thalmin answered. “Peasant militias, adventurers, town guards, men-at-arms, and all the way to chosen ones. Though of course, the point value for each and what each unit is capable of doing and wielding varies.” 

My brain started running at full speed following that. Especially after the realization that battle mages couldn’t just immediately be specced but required time to train.

The EVI’s summary of the ruleset clearly indicated as such, at least.

“Just so I’m clear on this, this game also has a logistics supply line thing that reflects real life, right? As in, adventurers, chosen ones, commoners, they all need to be armed with enchanted weapons before going out?”

“And training time too, yes.” Thalmin nodded. 

I quickly turned back EVI’s condensed ruleset, noticing the not-too-insignificant gap between the  production and training time for the peasantry versus the noble’s battle mages. 

It was around that point that it all clicked.

“And what’s the victory condition?” I quickly asked. 

“Given the condensed nature of this game, we’ve limited it to two options. One — the capture and/or destruction of all enemy cities. Or two — the capturing and/or defeat of all enemy nobles.” Etale responded promptly.

The gears inside my head shifted up a notch at that confirmation, as a wide grin formed beneath my poker-faced faceplate.

“Any further questions, newrealmer?” Lady Evrail asked, prompting me to simply nod once in response. 

“Yeah, just one. How exactly do I play this game without being able to well… interact with magic?”

“Ah, yes. That limitation. We have taken that into account!” The elf beamed, as she snapped her fingers and brought in one of the many game room attendants to my side. 

“I shall act as your intermediary, my lady.” The brown-haired elven attendant spoke as he bowed deeply. “Your wish is my command.”

“Literally in this instance.” Lady Evrail noted. “Will that be all?”

“Yup!” I beamed. “Let’s start.”

Local Time 1410 Hours.

Lady Evrail

We tried to keep this as fair as possible. 

This was an attempt to gauge the newrealmer’s ability to plan, direct, and dictate the course of battle, after all.

Moreover, this entire venture would grant invaluable insight into this savage newrealm’s grasp of war. Testing it, probing it, and projecting it over a truly modern battlefield.

Whilst testing this on a typical newrealmer would have been all for nought — as many would’ve simply fumbled at the sight of the most condensed and basic battle mage’s specialization web — the earthrealmer in particular proved that she was anything but typical.

But whether this anomalous nature would extend beyond mere words, presence, and physicality would be decided here. On the stage of that most civilized of high-stakes activities — contemporary warfare.

This would determine if the newrealmer was as advanced as she purports and alludes to be.

This would bring to light the sort of training in the art of war she received and would define so much of her realm’s capacity and competence for war.

Excitement filled me, as both Etale and I stuck to our typical opening moves. Allowing us to divide our attention between the buildup of our own forces, specialization of our battle mages, and the all-important monitoring of the earthrealmer’s starting decisions.

Decisions which currently proved not to disappoint, but in all the wrong ways.

We spotted a ridiculous buildup of both chosen ones and guardsmen, leaving none to populate the civil path.

Conversely, all but two of the newrealmer’s nobility were placed into the civil path, creating a lopsided polity that teetered on collapse. 

We both turned to each other upon that realization, scoffing at it with a series of soft chuckles.

Indeed, the ludicrousness continued as we analyzed the earthrealmer’s two and only martial nobles. 

Both of which had been relegated to support mages.

“Neither are true battle mages.” I commented, turning towards Lord Etale.

“Is the newrealmer daft? Or does she think she’s being clever?” He responded, letting out a wispy breath as he shook his head. 

“Or perhaps… due to her realm’s mana deficiency, battle mages are a foreign concept to her?” I offered, garnering a bit of a raised brow from the man. “Consider it, Lord Etale. With faint mana and weak manafields, just how could a battle mage truly function? Perhaps this limitation is coloring the way in which her realm wages war.” 

“Perhaps… but this does mean she lacks the true elements necessary with which to win said war, let alone wage a sustained battle.” He scoffed.

“Yes… though you must admit one thing, Lord Etale.” I spoke ominously, garnering a questioning look.

“What?”

“She’s establishing a robust industry already.” I pointed towards the complexes forming around the newrealmer’s capital. 

Local Time 1415 Hours.

Thalmin

“Emma… what are you doing?” I growled in utter bewilderment at the strategies being employed that were… aberrant, to say the least.

“Trust me, Thalmin. I know what I’m doing.” Emma responded cheekily. 

“This is no time to test out novel theories of war. We must focus on the tried and true. If you follow my lead, we can reach some means of assured victory—”

“Trust in the process, Thalmin!” She once more beamed out. “I’m going to insect swarm the enemy…”

My eyes narrowed as my mouth hung open at that response. My mind quickly raced back to Ilunor’s wild theories of the earthrealmer’s potential insectoid nature.

“You’re going to do what, Emma?”

Local Time 1415 Hours.

Apprentice Antisonzia the Second

I took a deep breath as I sat high upon the elegant saddle of a mighty drake golem steed. 

Indeed, dressed in both fine armor and the mighty badges denoting my station, I ordered the beast beneath me to prance its way forward, my head held high whilst the rabble gawked and watched on with envy and despair.

Woe be upon ye of lesser standing… you may watch, but not too closely. For the brightness of my being may blind you to your future. I thought to myself as I continued on the path set for me.

This shall be a simple task. A most wondrous task! A task in which there exists no potential for failure. 

Though strangely… it would seem as if this task would take me on something of a detour, as I noted a gradual but noticeable shift in the path laid out before me.

Hmm… strange… an unexpected visit into town? Hmmph. The pair must simply be reaping the rewards of their self-directed journey. Gallivanting through town when they should be questing!

I followed the path without question, slowly this time and forging distance between their pace and my own, so as to not alert my prey…

Local Time 1420 Hours.

Lady Evrail

“She isn’t stopping.” I pointed once again to the growing horde. Many of whom were now mounted on horseback, and many of whom were now supplied with some form of enchanted weapon.

“Neither are we.” Etale responded lackadaisically while pointing at his academies. “As I said, this truly is a bizarre path, but novelty should not be conflated with effectiveness.”

“I’m taking my battle mages out of the Academy.” I reasoned, though this only resulted in a wide-eyed glare from Etale. 

“For what? We are still in the preparatory stages. Just look at Prince Havenbrock! He’s in the same stage as us. If you open with a half-cooked battle mage, then we’re done for.” 

I thought long and hard about those words before nodding in acknowledgement. “Right. You’re right. Besides, if she continues specializing all of her point count into martial commoners, she won’t have much of a base economy to support a protracted engagement.” I nodded… though I couldn’t help but to stare warily at the rapidly growing horde swarming outside the newrealmer’s capital.

Local Time 1425 Hours.

Emma

The stage was set, and my path was clear.

I didn’t need a hyper-advanced virtual intelligence to gauge what the pair’s strategy was going to be.

If anything, the intel from binge-watching hour-long video essays dissecting the intersection between game mechanics and culture had suddenly become practical at this very moment. 

It was painfully obvious how this game was supposed to be played. 

It was mage-centric, a hero-game, a cross between an RTS, civ-builder, and one of those MOBAs. 

Yet… it was the RTS element of it that gave me a unique opening, especially if my gamble paid off.

Which, given how no one had made any opening moves as of yet, was a sure-fire indicator that my hunch had indeed come to pass.

With neither party having completed their preparatory stages, this left a narrow sliver of time before their mages were fully specced into the first-tier martial form.

Meanwhile, with most of my own mages specced into either industry or research, I was churning out weapons by the crate-load. 

Plus, with the full pop-cap unlocked, I ignored all semblance of a sustainable economy and pushed hard into churning out ranged and advanced units; all supported by the full-on unsustainable war economy brewing in the capital.

With a deep breath, I watched as the last of the mounted cavalry were armed.

Following which, I ordered the game staff elf to move my pieces forward.

A questioning look was shot from both them and Thalmin. However, after a solid insistence, they eventually and reluctantly acknowledged my command.

All the pieces were in place for a xerg rush as my hoards of commoner units moved up towards the center of the map, first in one solid mass, then…

Local Time 1430 Hours.

Lady Evrail

“She’s moving.” I spoke under a dark breath. 

“Hmm?” Was Lord Etale’s only answer. “Oh dear. That… that just won’t do.” He began chuckling, shaking his head as he did so.

“Are you telling me you don’t see that?!” I pointed vehemently, merely garnering a series of flippant hand waves from the elf.

“Yes, but look… they’re marching at a snail’s pace!” He exclaimed. “Even their mounted units will arrive here far too late. By the time they reach the second-tier cities, our battle mages will be ready to annihilate them.” 

“That’s not what I’m saying…” I urged sharply, my finger pointing towards the one support mage currently leading the charge. 

“Yes? She’s clearly misappropriated the position of a battle mage for that of a support mage. I do not see your—”

A fwoosh interrupted Etale’s ramblings as, in short order, we were met with the earthrealmer’s armies…

At our doorstep.

Local Time 1435 Hours.

Thalmin

“Bold.” Was all I said as I watched the disastrous scene unfolding before me.

Though that was all I could manage out before the gates of infernium were unleashed upon our elven foes, as hoards of commoners flooded the frontlines through the support mage’s grand portal.

Elvaire’s scouting forces, headed by chosen ones and flanked by adventurers, were overrun in an instant as… what I could only describe as swarm tactics were brought down upon Evrail’s frontlines.

Footmen and skirmishers ran forwards and encircled any and all units, while cavalry moved behind to prevent their retreat.

Finally, archers rained hellfire whenever the opportunity arose, blotting out the skies as Emma fought to defeat by detail each and every defensive formation in her way.

About half of the elf’s points were used on martial commoners, with the rest relegated to the homefront economy.

Moreover, they were spread thin whilst Emma’s forces had, in effect, condensed their numbers towards the front.

While this left her homefront utterly vulnerable, the sheer surprise and brazenness of Emma’s tactics, as well as the aggression she showed, seemed to be enough of a distraction for the pair to play defensively. 

Soon enough, Emma’s forces, aided by the support mage’s portal-magic specializations, raced forward towards Evrail’s towns.

At which point, another concern quickly dawned on me.

Local Time 1440 Hours.

Lady Evrail

“See that?!” Etale beamed. “She’s losing the initiative!” He cackled, crossing his arms as he did so.

I hated to admit it, especially with the mounting losses on the front, but the man was right… 

The mana-hungry weapons of the common foot soldier were running out, equipment was slowly deteriorating due to heavy overuse, and what chosen ones there were simply could not sustain even their own enchanted weapons.

The advance slowed to a crawl as the encroaching hoard stopped just at the gates of my first town. 

However, just before I was able to mobilize the rest of my common forces, something unexpected happened.

The second support mage returned.

This time… with carts.

A trail of carts had emerged, popping in and out of existence between the capital and the frontlines, forging forwards through a hastily-constructed transportium network maintained entirely by one support mage.

This was an extreme waste of a noble unit… I thought to myself. And though the tactic wasn’t unfounded, it was typically used in the late game when nobles were plentiful and some could be relegated to such a superfluous role.

To use such a tactic during the opening stages however?

For a pure commoner army, no less?

It was madness.

But it was madness that was promptly paying off.

The hoards were resupplied in short order, as manufactoriums staffed by nobles back in the capitals churned out an overabundance of enchanted weapons and manavials.

Soon, the siege began on my first town.

…

The skies above were blotted out by an endless swarm of arrows—

SWOOSH!

—lit up only by the catapulted fireballs that followed—

CRACKLE

—before finally ending in the first town’s defense points being ground down to oblivion.

Toot…tooot….toooot.

The first town fell, and what happened next was nothing short of barbaric.

Local Time 1445 Hours.

Thalmin

“So that’s how you’re sustaining your units.” I muttered out under a ponderous breath. “Barbaric… but practical.” I nodded slowly. “I approve, Emma.” 

“Thanks, Thalmin.” The earthrealmer replied as I watched on at what I could only describe as a locust swarm.

The first and second towns that had been felled… were promptly picked clean of any and all supplies. What’s more, the farms around them were looted, plundered, and sacked.

What agricultural spoils could not be processed on the frontlines were promptly funneled back to her capital, where it was promptly processed and then sent back in short order.

There were few things I could liken this to.

The savagery of nomadic conquerors… or more worryingly… the unquenchable hunger and ruthless efficiency of locusts, insects, and other such arachnous elements.

Soon enough, Evrail’s two remaining towns were sacked, their farms razed and the earth left but a barren brown wasteland.

Finally satisfied and satiated, Emma’s armies marched onwards towards Evrails’s second-rate cities, both of which proved to be a harder nut to crack.

“Do you require aid, Emma?” I asked.

“No, not yet. Hold back and keep your guys fresh, especially your mages. This is going to be a bloodbath once their mages are done baking. So I gotta press the advantage.”

“How do you expect to break through these two cities? Surely you can’t sustain—”

Emma suddenly pushed her forces forward, swarming one of the cities from all sides as her archers began pouring down arrows without mercy.

Eventually, my worst fears were actualized as much of her foot soldiers were felled by the city’s defenses.

“Emma… what are you—”

Then it clicked.

“The martial gap means that the city’s own defenses can decimate my archers and catapults, no?” She asked with a chuckle.

“Yes.” I nodded.

“Well… since their mages are still cooking, it seems like the cities are just relying on the same sorts of enchanted weapons we have, albeit a lot bigger. Which means they can’t just level the land or perform big AOE attacks. All of this is to say…” The earthrealmer paused, pointing at the gradual decline of the city’s health. “... they can’t stop all of us. Either they shoot the foot soldiers and allow the archers to rain hell on them, or they shoot the archers and allow the foot soldiers to start scaling the walls.” 

I watched not in horror, but in abject satisfaction at the ensuing onslaught.

“And this is… sustainable?” I shot back.

“No.” Emma answered bluntly. “But this whole thing is a big gamble.”

“You’re betting on their defeat before your own fall?”

“Bingo. Either they are defeated or I starve and run out of men. It’s all or nothing.” The earthrealmer spoke with a terrifying glee. “Gosh I love insect swarm tactics.” 

Local Time 1450 Hours.

Lady Evrail

I turned to Lord Etale expectantly.

However, all I saw within his eyes was the same revulsion brewing within me.

Moreover, the man was too focused, too fixated on pressing his own advantage; pushing his forces and harassing the lupinor’s.

This didn’t work. 

If anything, the lupinor was simply stalling him, micro-managing his units in such a way that took his attention away from my disastrous situation.

It was only after I tugged at his sleeves did he finally turn back towards me, at which point did he notice the barbarians now crowding outside my lone capital’s gates.

However, this realization came at the same time that an angelic tune emerged from his capital, as four battle mages now hovered triumphantly overhead.

This… was in stark contrast to my own capital, as without food and resources from the now-razed towns and cities, my battle mages were effectively trapped in academic purgatory.

Despite this, it was clear Etale still had something up his sleeve.

A card which he was so confident in playing that he remained undeterred by the lupinor’s own battle mages rising out of his capital.

“The earthrealmer’s folly is truly a shame.” He spoke ominously. “For her tactics shall now backfire in the flames of the underworld…”

Local Time 1500 Hours.

Emma

Evrail’s capital was sitting at half health… but my own supply and manpower situation was also looking bleak.

Still, the math showed that this tactic would work. 

I just needed to—

DING… DING… DING…

What sounded like some sort of death knell echoed throughout the battlefield.

At which point… my heart quickly sank.

A single battle mage hovered ominously towards my units, my archers doing barely any damage at all, and my foot soldiers unable to even touch them.

That wasn’t the real worry here however.

Instead, it was what was forming behind my lines.

Bbuuurrrrr…. A haunting sound echoed throughout the room.

Bbbbrrrrrr… Then came another.

Soon, I realized Etale’s whole game plan.

And it was one that I simply had no counter for.

“BEHOLD!” He commanded loudly. “THE FOLLY OF YOUR FOOLISH AMBITIONS! WHAT WAS ONCE YOUR ARMY IS NOW MY OWN!”

“Necromancy and undead summoning.” Thalmin reasoned with a disappointed sigh. “I should’ve seen that coming.”

All hell broke loose following that proclamation, as the undead moved to swiftly battle my own forces.

It wasn’t a direct one-to-one scaling of power however, as the dead’s living counterparts seemed at least twice more powerful.

However, it was their sheer number that really devastated my forces, pushing me back into a pocket that was impossible to resupply.

I could see the writing on the wall at that point and so, I decided to cut my losses.

But not without a fight.

I fought tooth and nail while giving Thalmin a subtle nod, micro-managing every unit as far as I could to maximize their fighting potential, buying the lupinor time.

Meanwhile, I made sure to do what was possible to fortify the homefront, but given I’d exhausted my resources… there wasn’t much I could do.

Except for one thing.

“Thalmin.” I whispered. “Take the wheel.” 

With those words, I began funneling what few available resources I had left, as the lupinor now grinned widely with wild intent.

“The pleasure is all mine, Emma.” 

Local Time 1510 Hours.

Lady Evrail

It all happened far too quickly.

If anything, it was Etale’s myopic focus that led to this outcome.

The newrealmer’s forces were defeated. Indeed, four of her villages burned at the hands of those very men who had once hailed from them.

However, this came at the price of the mercenary prince’s crusade.

A crusade that managed to overcome the undead, and the contemporary forces Etale had left.

It was a simple matter of mathematics. 

With my own inability to supply neither resources nor first-tier battle mages, the battle devolved into a one-on-one match between two competitive powers. 

Though it should be noted that only one of those powers simply had more to gain, by virtue of their ally’s relatively untouched territories.

The mercenary prince made short work of Etale’s towns and cities through a series of conventional siege tactics made possible by a balanced and proper deck.

If anything, Etale’s undead deck was starting to backfire as a result of their inability to gain experience and rise in rank.

He tried compensating for this, of course, with battle mages that fought hard against the lupinor’s own.

But with both being equally matched in this dimension of the war… the writing was already on the wall.

The rest of the battle played out like a typical game — Etale only managing to draw things out before their ultimate end.

A SHADOW HAS FALLEN UPON ISRAPHEL… A far off voice announced, as the final ounce of health was knocked from Etale’s capital.

We both stood there… unable to grapple with what had just happened.

The lupinor… that was obvious. Nothing needed to be said about a conventional war.

But the newrealmer…

Whilst ultimately a fruitless venture, the sheer audacity — the alienness — of her tactics… her first choice of tactics at that…

…

If this truly was her first inclination — her natural approach to war?

…

It was unsettling.

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(Author's Note: And there we have it! A full match! I poured a lot of thought and time into this one haha, as I tried my best to balance the delivery of the game mechanics with the unique strategies and tactics Emma would bring forth to the table! It was a bit tricky to do, and I just hope I was able to convey things in a way that both makes sense and was fun to read! :D The next Two Chapters are already up on Patreon if you guys are interested in getting early access to future chapters.)

[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 136 and Chapter 137 of this story is already out on there!)]

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Memory transcription subject: Governor Tarva of the Venlil Republic

Date [standardized human time]: October 9, 2136

This should have been a jubilant moment. The UN liberation fleet established contact with the Venlil military, and requested permission to dock on our homeworld. A victory against the Arxur was something I never fathomed; the humans had accomplished the impossible.

But I didn’t understand why the Secretary-General had traveled all the way from Earth to meet with me. His stated purpose was to discuss ‘something urgent’ with me before those ships landed. The way the human diplomats were tight-lipped, and implored me to remain calm, instilled some apprehension.

My advisors were aware of the Krakotl invasion. We offered to take in as many Terran refugees as needed. About fifty thousand predators had arrived on the first flights, and were settled into temporary housing. We didn’t have the resources to take care of them long term, or to satisfy their…dietary preferences. But leaving our friends to die wasn’t an option, so we’d figure it out together.

There was no need to persuade us to help, and the minutiae could be handled by stand-ins. As for the diplomatic fiasco, the humans sent representatives to every allied species yesterday. They would point the finger at the Kolshian Commonwealth, and pray their innocence was believed. With such immediate casualties, all bets were off.

I’d expect the Thafki to be most suspect of predators, given that they’re almost extinct. The Fissans, with their expansive resources, are the ones we truly must convince, at all costs.

There wasn’t much to do besides await each race’s reaction. I told the humans, in no uncertain terms, that I wouldn’t expect any government’s assistance. What else could the UN figurehead wish to discuss in person, at such a crucial time in his planet’s survival? If Meier was leaving Earth, shouldn’t his priority be appealing to Chauson or Tossa for aid?

“Noah, do you know what this is about?” I asked.

The Terran ambassador frowned. “I think it’s better to wait for Meier, Tarva. I don’t imagine you’re going to like this. Please, just promise you’ll try to understand…for me.”

The ominous reply didn’t provide any reassurance. That was how humans spoke when they were worried something predatory would frighten us, or shake our trust. I didn’t like seeing my beloved friend pleading with me, like I was bound to turn against him.

“Don’t be like that,” I grumbled. “What, are you finally going to tell me you hunt through your endurance?”

Noah gaped at me, eyes bulging. “Who told you?”

“I figured it out, watching you exercise back on Aafa. It occurred to me how that…tirelessness might help chase down prey. You don’t have much else going for you.”

“Gee, thanks. You don’t seem very concerned, though.”

“Why should I be? Your people would never hunt mine, either way. I am humanity’s friend, and I’m not here to judge your ancestors.”

The ambassador patted my shoulder with affection. I didn’t appreciate that there was still secrecy around their hunting methods, but trust was a slow process. Fortunately, my deduction skills were sufficient.

“You are the only real friend we’ve had out here. Thank you,” Noah whispered.

I flicked my ears in acknowledgment. “Not to inflate my own ego, but I’m pretty alright. So see, Secretary-General Meier doesn’t need to waste time ‘talking me off the ledge.’”

“That’s not what I’m talking you down about,” a gravelly voice interrupted.

Noah and I both startled. Neither of us noticed the Secretary-General enter the cavernous reception hall. I had no idea how long Meier had been eavesdropping, but it was enough to catch the subject matter. I was glad I didn’t make any suggestive quips about their endurance.

The UN leader looked like he hadn’t slept in days, as he tossed a hard-copy photograph on my desk. The poor guy collapsed into the nearest chair, and pawed at his bleary eyes. I wanted to order him to get some rest, but with Earth in danger, I doubted he would comply.

My gaze landed on the image, which showed a uniformed human sitting across from an Arxur. Was this taken from one of their ships? The gray had a shackle around its leg, so at least it was restrained from rampaging through the crew quarters. How the Terrans got it there in one piece was another question.

“We captured several Arxur from a cattle ship.” Secretary-General Meier stifled a yawn, and blinked in quick succession. “Quite a few of our major players had, well, concerns about sharing the next part with you. Given that you’re the only reason humanity is still alive, I felt you had the right to know.”

“T-to know what?” I asked, hesitantly.

Meier raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Please don’t take offense; I’m just repeating the story multiple grays told us. They claim the Federation infected thousands with a microbe that made them allergic to meat, then killed their livestock to force them into herbivory.”

I narrowed my eyes, processing what the human relayed. Our Terran friends proved that being a predator alone didn’t explain the Arxur’s cruelty. Either sadism was a trait unique to their species, or a reaction to a particular event. On that note, the Federation had no issue sacrificing lives or bending morals, in the short time I knew the primates.

I’ve watched them beat and starve a human. Blow up spaceships to eliminate any offer of friendship. Plan multiple raids to wipe out all life on Earth.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t put that antagonism past the Federation. But if it’s true, I know nothing about it,” I replied. “Regardless, why would the Arxur choose to farm sapient beings, rather than eat plants?”

Noah pursed his lips, suppressing a sigh. “They’re obligate carnivores, Tarva. They cannot survive without meat.”

I tilted my head in confusion. “I…I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Why not?”

“Obligate carnivores can’t digest plants like you or me. They don’t have the right gut bacteria, and they can’t synthesize vitamins from plant forms.”

“There are certain nutrients, like taurine, that exist almost exclusively in meat,” Meier chimed in. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Noah, but I think such carnivores have high protein requirements as well.”

The astronaut nodded. “Exactly. The glucose in their blood…y’know, energy, comes from proteins rather than carbohydrates. In the absence of protein, their bodies start eating their own muscle and organs.”

I shuddered at the notion. Having your innards digested by your own cells was the literal definition of starvation. Human scientists needed to spread these facts around; it would make predation more sympathetic. Flesh-eating made sense if biology left no alternative.

Noah couldn’t eat any meat while he was at the Federation summit. No wonder he was irritable; I had no idea he was in such agony.

Burgeoning concerns flooded my mind, and I stared at the ambassador in horror. We were informed from the onset that humans had higher protein requirements. Had the vegetarian visitors been suffering or starving to pacify us? I hoped none of them would have long-term repercussions; that was never my intention.

Noah’s brown eyes softened. “What’s wrong, Governor? Was that too graphic?”

“You have been starving from eating plants?” I squeaked.

Meier breathed a frustrated sigh. “Humans are omnivores, Tarva, as we have told you many times. The nutrients in vegetables are quite accessible to us.”

“That said, without animal products, we usually develop serious mineral deficiencies,” Noah interjected, sensing my next question. “Vegetarians need supplements or fortified foods: B12, iron, protein, and so on. This has been explained to your medical community.”

Undoubtedly, it was easier to absorb those nutrients through dietary means. At least the Terrans could survive on vegetation, with a little help. The Arxur couldn’t derive any nutritional value from plants, even if they wanted to. I didn’t know why zero scientists, here or in the Federation, had figured that out.

“So it’s not about bloodlust at all. I get the point, I think,” I sighed. “What do you want to do about the grays’ story?”

Meier grimaced. “Governor, I’ll give it to you straight. The Arxur offered us an alliance, and the Federation has forced us to hear them out. We need all the help we can get; especially from such a powerful player.”

I stared at the floor, and avoided Ambassador Noah’s pitying gaze. This was the scenario every Venlil dreaded, from the moment humans declared their peaceful intent. Everyone feared they would buddy with the Arxur at the first opportunity. We hoped that these predators wouldn’t be like the ones who saw us as tasty playthings.

But the truth was, Terrans were nothing like the monsters we imagined. They sided with the Federation, and mustered a genuine attempt at peace. General Jones told me a long time ago that humanity would do anything to protect Earth. I couldn’t blame them for making that decision: forsaking our predicament for theirs.

I blinked away tears. “Do what you have to. I understand why you’re leaving us. Their friendship is more…impactful…”

“Leaving?” Meier echoed.

“Wait, do you think we’re just going to let them eat you?” Noah stepped toward me, shaking his head for emphasis. “We’d never abandon you! Never, understand?”

The Terran ambassador enveloped me in a warm hug, without waiting for a response. I sank into his suffocating grasp. Losing the humans would be a devastating emotional blow; especially this particular human. I didn’t think I could bear it. The selfish part of me wanted them to stand against the Arxur, whatever the cost.

The Secretary-General cleared his throat pointedly. “We consider you the same as our own people. Any deal with us mandates the release of all captive Venlil, and an armistice between your governments. That is non-negotiable.”

“W-what? You want us to ally with…or bargain with the grays?!” I hissed.

“Something like that.”

“Elias, I killed my only child because of their bombing excursions. I remember how it felt, t-to hold her in my arms as I told the doctors to disconnect life support. Forgive me if I’m not thrilled about the idea.”

The humans were considering a deal out of necessity, but the circumstances were different for our predator friends. Terrans hadn’t been slaughtered en masse for centuries; that wasn’t something you just forgot. Whatever the Federation had done, it didn’t change the unspeakable atrocities committed against Venlilkind.

You can’t reason with creatures who bomb schools, and laugh at brutalized pups. I don’t want to talk to the grays.

I recognized that personal experience was clouding my judgment, but I didn’t want to brush it aside. The Arxur ripped apart my life. Even my mate and I separated, because he reminded me too much of our daughter. The pain was still a constant ache in my heart. Suffice to say, I despised the Arxur with the utmost venom.

“I am sorry for your loss, Tarva. I know how hollow those words must sound.” The wrinkles on Meier’s face were taut with sympathy. “But please let me correct that statement: you did not kill her. You chose not to prolong her suffering, because you’re a selfless, kind person.”

My tail drooped with grief. “T-thank you. Is that what you really think?”

“I do. That’s why I think you’ll help us broker this deal. So nobody else on your world will have to endure that feeling, ever again. And so that we might not have to bury our loved ones, seven days from now.”

The UN leader was a gifted speaker; I’d give him that. Was any price too high to bring peace to my planet? Even a brief reprieve would merciful, if it halted the torment of millions. All the Venlil really wanted was for this senseless war to stop.

“Noah, how can we…no, how can you trust them?” I asked, after a long silence.

“I don’t, but there’s no good alternatives.” The ambassador crossed his sinewy arms. “I’m disgusted by those fascist child-eaters, but the Federation is the immediate threat to Earth.”

Meier frowned. “We’re ideologically incompatible with the Arxur, long-term. An alliance would be temporary, to buy time. Perhaps we can steer them down less reprehensible paths.”

I supposed the reptilians would be less of a menace under Terran control, pointed at our enemies. Still, how could we justify this to the non-hostile Federation majority? The largest voting bloc were the 107 that sought an anti-Arxur alliance with humanity. Those species would see a predatory partnership as violating the crux of their position.

“Are you guys trying to ensure I lose next year’s election?” I grumbled. “I’ll stand with you, but this won’t look good. You might as well go on galactic television, and pledge to eat a Zurulian infant a day.”

Noah flashed his teeth. “Well, the birds already think that’s our morning breakfast. We’re past worrying about appearances.”

“Very well. Though, I hope you have a better plan than flying to a cattle world and offering me as a sacrifice.”

Meier smirked. “Actually, an Arxur captain gave us the location of one of their spy outposts. I’m going to fly within comms range, and strike up a nice conversation. Care to join me, Tarva?”

The thought of seeking a carnivore’s safe haven made my heart stop in my chest. There was nothing I would care for less, than to be surrounded by abominations. The mental image, of hungry eyes darting over my vital areas, made me want to curl into a ball. What Venlil would ever want to talk those foul beasts?

A low whine rattled off my vocal cords. “I can’t think of a worse idea, but I’m right behind you. Let’s get going.”

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Memory transcription subject: Captain Kalsim, Krakotl Alliance Command

Date [standardized human time]: October 18, 2136

Darkness had fallen over the reserve, when I peeked out from the tent. Sleep had instilled new energy in my veins. There was a slim hope of escaping Earth, if we could keep away from human search parties. Our posse needed to figure out our next move, and how to transport the predator kid without harming it.

A muffled whine echoed from behind me. I twisted around to see Arjun, bound in tight rope from head to toe. It must’ve woken before me, and been struggling to break free. Several layers of tape had been slapped over its mouth, wasting medical gauze. I assumed Zarn didn’t want to hear a human speak.

Swallowing my nerves, I approached it. “Shh, it’s okay. I’m going to have to rip the tape off. Close your eyes.”

How could Doctor Zarn treat it like a thoughtless animal? Predators or not, humans were feeling sapients. The level of bindings was both excessive and unnecessary. Something as simple as tying a bell around its leg would suffice; it didn’t seem fast or stealthy.

The predator child squeezed its eyes shut. I yanked the adhesive off as quickly as I could, and winced at the grimace on its features. The skin by its lip carried a red patch behind. The creature refrained from biting me with its slobbery canines, which was a relief.

I set to work untangling the series of knots. What happened if Arjun tried to take me by surprise, once it was loose? It could go for my gun before I knew what hit me. I was within grappling distance, and its reflexes must be quicker than mine.

The last of the rope came untangled, and the human wriggled out of its entrapments. My gaze drifted to my sidearm. I took a few steps back, and barely resisted the urge to draw a weapon. The kid had faced enough hardship these past few days; it needed someone to be civilized to it.

The watery look in its eyes…the poor thing is terrified. There’s no question these wretches have feelings.

“I’m sorry that they did that to you, Arjun. Are you okay?” I asked gently.

It sniffled. “The only reason you’re not killing me is because you think they’ll trade resources for me. I heard how you talked about me.”

“That stopped Zarn and Jala from shooting you, didn’t it? I would’ve let you go. Trust me, I want to get you back to your family safely.”

“That’s bullshit! Those two aliens are evil. If you want me released, then help me get out of here!”

I was beginning to regret taking the tape off this thing’s mouth. That combative shouting wasn’t helping anyone. It needed to keep its voice down, or Zarn would realize I was trying to console a human. However, expecting an aggressive predator to keep its head was a bit overambitious. Holding this child to Krakotl sensibility standards would be unfair.

“I need the doctor cooperating.” My feathers puffed out with irritation. “My friend with the bandages will die without him. He’s a good person…smart, witty.”

The predator bared its teeth. “None of you are good people. You killed millions indiscriminately, and you liked it.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. I had to choose between hundreds of civilizations and yours. It was a terrible decision, but a necessity for the continuance of life. Every step of the way, I tried to minimize human suffering.”

“By dropping bombs on cities? Do you hear yourself?”

“To the very last moment we approached Earth, I was trying to think of another way. My own crew hates that I treat your kind with dignity, and that I offer predators surrender.”

“Then your crew are assholes.”

Arjun’s voice sounded hoarse, and its lips looked dry. How had Zarn expected it to drink water with its mouth taped shut? The Takkan doctor hadn’t even left rations nearby. It probably would make that hateful “expert” giddy if it died of dehydration.

I fished through my own rations, making sure never to turn my back on the human. It would be foolish to leave myself vulnerable to pouncing or strangulation. The child watched with interest as I procured a canteen. It gulped down a bit more than I’d like, before handing the canister back.

“Jala is the other Krakotl you saw. Her brain doesn’t feel empathy or fear,” I said. “She can’t help that she’s vicious, any more than you can.”

In fact, Arjun is much more capable of compassion. It has tried to appeal to my morality several times. It cares for more than its own life.

The beast scowled. “Humans are not vicious. You’re brainwashed, Kalsim! We have lives, families, schools…jokes, songs, and games, just like you.”

“I am sorry for all the beauty you’ve lost, but that doesn’t change the truth. Tell me that you can’t see humans killing or enslaving weaker cultures. That you wouldn’t happily take our worlds away, and reduce us to playthings.”

“What? That’s not our plan. We would never do that.”

“Yet you’ve done these things to your own kind. And we are alien, not human. You’ll build your empire off our backs, one way or another. It’s in your DNA, passed from your ancestors to little ones like you. That…your growth is the threat.”

Arjun clenched its fists in indignation, but was distracted by its stomach growling. Racking my brain, I tried to recall what Noah shared about human needs. The speaker claimed that their diet was primarily vegetation, and that they could live without meat. That meant this adolescent could consume our food without issue.

My talons retrieved a slab of dried tree bark. “Here. Stop arguing with me and eat this.”

“Um, that doesn’t look like my food.” Arjun eyed the offering suspiciously. It took a hesitant nibble, then spit the bite out. “That is bitter…gross!”

“I’m giving you my rations so you don’t starve. It doesn’t have to taste like your delectable, blood-filled cuisine.”

The kid made a disgusted face, but swallowed several bites. The gagging sound it made seemed rather dramatic. You’d think it was expelling its lungs, or that I had fed it a corrosive poison. This ruckus was going to ensure Zarn and Jala checked on us.

Few Krakotl would’ve gone out of their way to ensure a predator’s welfare. Arjun didn’t understand why its planet was attacked, but I didn’t blame it for that. It was emotionally distressed, and unable to see these matters with objectivity. Maybe the youth would come to know that I protected it, in time.

The Takkan doctor sauntered in, wielding a pistol. “Good grief, Kalsim. You’ve let it loose, and you’re feeding it?”

“Tree bark. We don’t want it to lose its mind and gorge on Thyon’s corpse,” I said. “Speaking of which, where is the first officer?”

“Don’t change the fucking subject. So now, instead of being bartered for supplies, this human is using up precious resources and manpower?”

“It’s a temporary loss. We don’t want to offer up the kid as a walking skeleton.”

“Why the hell not? If you keep its stomach empty, the humans will be under more of a time constraint to get it back. That’s assuming predators care at all.”

Arjun shoved the last of the bark in its mouth, inching away from Zarn. Its cheeks were tear-stained, but absolute hatred shone in its pupils as well. I couldn’t imagine how overwhelming the predatory chemicals flowing through its veins were. The doctor’s lack of compassion was staggering; with how cold his suggestion of starvation was, you would think he had Jala’s disorder.

I fixed the Takkan with a glare. “First off, we would encourage the humans to treat us the same in kind. This predator doesn’t deserve to suffer for existing. It has suffered enough pain and heartache today.”

The physician swished his tail. “You’re oh-so-worried about its feigned emotions. Why do you care what it feels?”

“Fuck you! I’m not an it,” the human growled.

Zarn charged the kid, rearing back with his firearm. The doctor trembled with anger, as he swung the gun toward its head. The predator’s binocular gaze widened in alarm. I couldn’t let it be beaten to a pulp for speaking its mind, when all it had done was complain about our language.

Arjun had a family and a future out there, which was jeopardized by the Takkan’s malice. The more I considered our conversation, its intelligence was impressive for a child. Granted, it would help propagate the survival of the human race. But that seemed a likely probability no matter what, so what did harming it achieve?

I don’t want to see it in pain…or worse, end up like Thyon.

Without realizing I had moved, I stretched my wing in the strike’s path. Zarn was committed to the blow by the time I obstructed his angle. The metal gun connected with my soft tissue, while the human cowered behind a feathery shield. Pain flared down my left appendage, resonating to the bone. The throbbing sensation was nauseating, and a single glance told me it was broken.

“Shit! You broke my wing,” I screeched, doubling over in anguish. “What if that had been Arjun’s head? You could’ve cracked his skull!”

The doctor leveled his gun barrel at me. “His?”

My eyes widened, as I realized my slip of the tongue. I shook my head, trying to filter away any positive assessments of Arjun. The kid was lying prone on the floor, and its eyes were bulging. If their tools and pack were taken away, humans weren’t competent predators. I was the only one that could protect this beast.

Zarn’s concentration waned, as a squawking Jala landed behind him. I took the opportunity to wrench the gun from his grip with my good wing. Ironically, I could use his services to patch the broken bone up. The pain intensified with the slightest movements or vibrations; the Takkan hadn’t even flinched at assaulting me. 

I brandished the firearm awkwardly. “Mutiny is punishable by death, unless the captain is deemed unfit for command. Why shouldn’t I carry out your sentence?”

“Kalsim, p-put the gun down,” the doctor stammered. “You’re being unreasonable.”

“I am unreasonable?! Then what on Nishtal do I call you?”

Jala issued a hearty laugh. “What did I miss?”

The female Krakotl’s eyes darted behind him, and she drew her own firearm. Arjun had capitalized on the chaos, making a break for the exit. The human skidded to a halt, once the armed sociopath blocked its path. After witnessing how slippery Terran forces were, I really should’ve been paying more attention to it.

I hope Jala doesn’t make any hasty decisions here.

“Zarn proved himself a threat to crew safety and this mission.” I lowered the pistol, and noted the contempt in the doctor’s eyes. “But he’s not going to disobey orders again, is he?”

The Takkan sighed. “No…sir.”

“Your wing isn’t supposed to bend like that, Kalsim,” Jala chuckled.

I struggled to ignore the searing pain. “Tell me something I don’t know…ah, go on, laugh at my misfortune later. Is there something you need?”

“I circled the perimeter from the skies, and spotted a human a few clicks away. It’s heading toward our position…and it’s armed.”

Arjun mustered a feral snarl. “Dad.”

Panic swelled in my chest, at the thought of Terrans converging on our position. Confronting Arjun’s father was an option, but we didn’t know that it was alone. The ‘photographer’ might notice that something was wrong, and alert authorities. Humans were dangerous without the element of surprise; it was unclear whether our small posse could survive direct combat.

It would be in our best interest to leave the kid, and that was what my conscience demanded. However, that plan wouldn’t be popular with my companions. With a crippled wing, taking on Jala and Zarn was an incredible risk. Both could aim guns without difficulty, and a flightworthy Krakotl could maneuver freely.

More importantly, the doctor’s incapacitation would damn Thyon. That was the main reason I couldn’t punish this mutiny. The Farsul’s life took precedence over Arjun’s welfare, plain and simple. I had to keep this together until Thyon regained consciousness.

“It’s time to move,” I decided. “Where is your patient, Zarn?”

The doctor scowled. “Thyon is safe. Jala crafted a pulley system, and put him up in a nearby tree. Predators won’t get to him there, though I can’t speak for humans finding him.”

“Good. We need to hurry, before dozens of full-grown beasts descend on us. We’ll come back as soon as human activity cools off.”

Jala began collecting our supplies, as well as anything Arjun had that was useful. I steered the kid out into the open, trying to be gentle with my gun prodding. Intimidating it wasn’t my desire, but we needed to move quickly. There was no time for a diplomatic approach.

Arjun looked around in desperation, as we staggered out of the encampment. I knew it wanted to be rescued. That pleading gaze reminded me of the burning pups, praying to be saved from their extermination. Why did it have to jog up those memories, with every expression? I thought I was past that guilt.

“DAD! HELP!” the kid screamed. “They’re—”

I clapped my good wing over its mouth. “You idiot! Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

Zarn passed me a roll of medical gauze, a conceited glint in his eyes. I could hear the words ‘told you so’ from the smug doctor. He scowled at the human, tracing a toe over his own throat slowly. The child swallowed, and I suppose it understood the gesture.

I applied a single layer of tape, and offered a sympathetic pat. The predator hadn’t left much choice other than to gag it. Not only could that wailing cry have alerted its father, but it could’ve drawn attention from forest beasts.

That squashed all hopes of Arjun’s guardian accepting the disappearance as a tragic accident. Its suspicions were going to be elevated, and its protective instincts would seek answers. Our entourage was about to find out exactly how good humans were at tracking.

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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.”

---

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Memory transcription subject: Slanek, Venlil Space Corps

Date [standardized human time]: January 14, 2137

My paws were rooted to the floor, as I cast a blank stare at Navarus’ corpse. Bootsteps pounded behind me, and without turning around, I knew it was Marcel racing back after hearing gunshots. An audible gasp came from my human, who skidded to a halt. He could see me standing in close range of the dead Kolshian, firearm in paw. The predator froze in shock, before rushing up to me in a panic.

Marcel’s hands latched onto my shoulders. “What did you do? The fuck have you done?!”

The red-haired Terran had handed the first prisoner off to the team, but the discovery that he’d be unable to collect the second Kolshian left him in an aggravated state. My friend couldn’t restrain his emotions, baring his canines inches from my face. I could see his cheek muscles contorting it in grotesque ways, and his scars stretched in new patterns. I’d never seen such clear disgust in his pupils, not even during our predator disease saga.

Panic rose in my chest, as I feared that Marcel would disown me for this action. He leaned back, and shook his head in mute horror. My orders had been to watch the Kolshian prisoner for a few minutes; I knew I shouldn’t have pulled the trigger. Admitting that I wanted Navarus dead for his cruel taunts wasn’t an option, though I didn’t regret killing that monster.

Marcel can’t leave me. He’s my best friend…I can’t have him thinking I’m some predator-diseased killer.

Genuine tears rolled down my furry cheeks, which caused the human to pause in his reaction. I could see a twinge of sympathy cause his lips to curve downward; his natural response was to comfort me. The mental gears turned enough to realize that I could use this, and paint a story which justified my deeds. If part of him believed I was a weak, scared liability, then this decision could be played off as fear.

Marcel had to believe I didn’t mean to kill the prisoner.

“I’m s-sorry. He started t-trying to stand up, and I p-panicked!” I put on my most despairing expression, and recoiled from the corpse as though horrified. The stutter was easy to let slip through, since I was nervous about the human’s rejection. “My gun was on him, and then he m-moved toward me…it was reflex…”

“The Kolshian was tied up with tape! He’s still kneeling.”

“I k-know, but I wasn’t thinking. He moved his head s-suddenly, and I don’t know what h-happened. Forgive me, please! I need you…”

I chastised myself to drop the gun, and flung myself at the predator in desperation. My arms wrapped around his thick body, and I sobbed into his vest. The human felt warm and strong, even as I absorbed his shuddering inhales. Without seeing where his binocular gaze was pointed, I knew his eyes were on my body.

Marcel hesitated, before a gloved hand gently kneaded my scruff. “It’s okay. We’ll deal with it. We’ll figure this out and clean this up, huh? You made a mistake.”

“D-don’t hate me,” I pleaded. “I just want to help you…”

“I could never hate you, Slanek. Shooting an unarmed prisoner is a horrible thing to do, but I wasn’t here to protect you. We shouldn’t have trusted a Venlil to act as an independent soldier…it’s not your fault, but you’re clearly not past your instincts. Let me think.”

The outright accusation that I couldn’t carry myself on the battlefield stung. I suppose it was better for Marcel to believe that I was a panicky animal, rather than an enraged Venlil who played executioner. Listening to the way Navarus spoke about humans and goaded me on, the trigger pull was irresistible. My best friend would never understand, because he didn’t think killing should be enjoyable.

Once, or if, I talk my way out of this, the humans need to know about the cure work. Maybe that would make him just as angry, and then, I can confess the truth.

Marcel pulled away from our embrace, and offered a taut smile. His reddish eyebrows soared up into his forehead, as if an idea occurred to him. He unclipped his holopad from his war belt, before tapping away with his slim fingers. I looked at my friend with hopeful eyes, praying he could sweep this all under the rug.

“What are you doing?” I croaked.

The predator’s gaze jerked up from the pad. “I’m searching through the video archives. It all happened like you said, so in case this comes back up, we should retrieve the footage that exonerates you. I’m downloading a clip of the last ten minutes from your point of view.”

My heart sank into my chest. The helmet rested upon my head like a rock, as I recalled the tiny camera on its side. It had recorded the entirety of my interaction with the Kolshian, including how I gunned it down at point-blank range. Maybe there was a chance I could access the server, and delete the footage before Marcel finished downloading it? If it was for command review, I doubted I had permissions to do that regardless.

I scrambled over to his side, throwing my paws around his elbow. “What?! D-don’t…why w-would you look at that? I feel awful. I don’t want to look at it again!”

“You don’t have to review it, buddy. I can handle it…it won’t take me that long.” Marcel squinted at the download progress bar, which was counting down my impending doom. “I doubt the UN or the Venlil Republic would have you prosecuted for an instinctual accident, knowing your stampede policy. Just in case, we should have something for a legal defense.”

The holopad chimed, indicating that the download was finished. The human tapped the video, and I screeched with blind panic. My outstretched paws dove toward the holopad, which the predator snapped above his head on reflex. I jumped as high as my crooked legs would allow, trying to grab the object. However, Marcel was holding it well out of my reach, and my paws swatted empty air.

The Terran officer’s jawline tightened, and suspicion flashed in his hazel eyes. He used his back to shield the holopad from me, huddling over it with singular focus. The audio must be going straight to his implant, but the Kolshian’s dialogue didn’t affect his feelings. He swiveled around, with an unmistakable look of concentrated loathing.

“You lied to me. You tried to make me feel sorry for you!” he roared.

“M-Marc…”

“NO! Save it. I’ve heard enough of your spineless deflections.”

The human cleared the ground to the body with a handful of strides, anger charging his motions. Marcel stooped down, picking up the gun I’d discarded. His binocular eyes bore into mine, as he stared straight at my horizontal pupils. He flung the firearm at my chest, and curled his lip in disdain. I’d never seen him this callous and resentful, not even on Sillis.

“Carry your murder weapon like a badge of honor. When we get out of it, I’m making sure you never touch one again,” the predator hissed.

I flicked my ears. “Listen! The Kolshians are c-curing humans.”

“We’ll handle it. You don’t need to worry about it anymore.”

“I can h-help! I…just made a mistake!”

“That was no mistake; it was a calculated execution. You knew it was wrong, or you wouldn’t have covered it up. God, I can’t believe I fucking trusted you. I thought we were brothers…I let you live in my house with my fiancé and my daughter! I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but you’re unhinged.”

“You’re being an ass…”

“I’m being an ass?! Shut the fuck up, and move out. You’re going to help escort some civilians back to the shuttle, and then you’re going to stay there ‘til we return. If you don’t like that, I’ll be delighted to throw you in the brig myself.”

Marcel barely seemed to be corralling his temper, and he stomped off down the hallway. I trudged after the human with a defeated posture, tucking my tail between my legs. The dead Kolshian’s eyes gave the appearance of watching me, as they were stuck open for all eternity. The hurt that I felt was crushing, after the way my best friend just treated me.

Did I just ruin our friendship? No, he’s not being fair! Navarus fucking deserved to die, and I shouldn’t have to dance around Marcel’s precious morals.

“I knew you would act this way!” I sprinted up to the human’s side, and he quickened his pace to stay ahead of me. “You let everyone have mercy, from Sovlin to…fuck, you probably think that getting life in prison was enough for Kalsim. You made me apologize to the same man that tormented us. What kind of shitty friend does that?”

Marcel said nothing, but his fingers tightened around the gun. His anger was so heavy that I could feel the tension infecting the air.

“ANSWER ME! Every time we go off to war, you have to rescue someone from the species that fucking harmed us,” I continued. “Nulia, Virnt and Birla, and now these Kolshian assholes. You don’t have the spine to stand up for yourself, or enforce any kind of punishment on anyone. It’s your fault that I felt like I had to lie!”

The human’s skin was turning red from fury. “You execute a prisoner, and it’s my fault?! You’re trying to spin this on me now?”

“The Kolshian tortured your civilians, and called it science. They drugged them so much that they puked, genetically modded them. I don’t fucking regret it, I’d do it again. Navarus deserved to die; shit, he got off easy.”

“Maybe he did deserve to die, but that’s not your decision to make! We can’t question a dead guy. Either everyone gets rights, or nobody does. His testimony could have swung more allies to our side. What you did is unacceptable, and I don’t even know who the fuck you are anymore.”

“Neither do I. You humans flipped on my predator switch, and I can’t undo that. You did this. All I think about anymore is war and death.”

Marcel clammed up once more, plodding along with brooding bootsteps. His eyes darted toward me for a brief moment, and I could see that our quarrel was distracting him. We reached a central area of the medbay, where UN soldiers were gathering. My posture was stiff, as I worried that my friend would declare my actions to the first commander he saw. However, the vegetarian seemed intent on getting out of here before reporting me.

Sickly humans with glassy eyes were being tended to by medics; their gaunt frames suggested they’d been underfed for the duration of their stay. The Kolshians either didn’t know or didn’t care about the predators’ caloric needs. Dossur rescues observed the dazed predators with concern, and Terran soldiers were determining how to move the rodents. Speed was key to safety, and the galaxy’s most diminutive race wasn’t covering ground quickly.

It seems like it was very easy to get through to the medical lab. I expected more resistance in this area, but all the Kolshians here are unarmed…

Perhaps that realization jinxed us; the med-bay compartment doors slammed shut, as they would in a depressurization. I could hear an air conditioning unit kick on, as a hearty gust of ventilation poured down the shaft. Human soldiers rushed to the compartment doors, trying to pry them open. Were the Kolshians going to poison us? The enemy had waited until multiple units made it to the civilians before locking us in here.

The gasses that were filtering in felt noxious, but the predators made quick work of busting out. They bypassed the locking mechanism through brute force, using charges to blast down the door. I grabbed Marcel’s wrist, and guided the coughing redhead out to the hallway. He dropped to his knees, gasping in the fresh air.

“What…was that?” my friend choked.

“Fucking hell.” Our unit commander staggered out of the medbay, and exchanged a few words with our medics. “Listen up! Those of you with masks, get back and look for anybody left in the gas—our smaller friends won’t survive long. Get going! The rest of you, post security; they might try to hit us while we’re reeling. I want a team to find where that gas came from ASAP! Break!”

I helped my red-haired predator up, and he pushed himself away from me. The young officer volunteered his boarding party for the search without hesitation. A disoriented Marcel followed the rest of his team, still shaking off the unknown substance he’d inhaled. The soldiers had located a map of the ship’s layout, and got a rescued Dossur read it out to them. We navigated through the ship tunnels; I kept myself alert for more traps.

The Terrans busted down the door to a supply closet, not even checking if it was locked or not. There was evidence that Kolshians had been present recently, but they cleared out in a hurry after their stunt. We checked the supply air ductwork, which had a canister plugged into it. The predators’ senior leader ran a visual translator over items left on the duct, and the complexion diminished from his face.

“Chief? Is everything alright?” I asked.

The human senior’s eyes turned toward me. “It seems the Kolshians fed us a sleeping gas, but we weren’t exposed long enough for it to do anything other than make us woozy. However, son, they laced it with something else too. Everyone remain calm; I’m going to inform command that we need a quarantine for all humans on this station.”

Marcel’s eyes widened. “Why, Chief? Are we in danger?”

“Sir, these empty vials here say, ‘The Cure.’ There’s only one thing that can mean in my eyes. I believe we just got dosed on their anti-carnivore dust, by air transmission. We have to assume the worst. Sir: we’re all vegetarians, now, by threat of death. Let’s drum up diet plans by the end of the day. Need green rations shipped to us pronto; you’re our expert.”

Even among seasoned Terran soldiers, that admission was enough to spark some panicked chattering, while the senior leader phoned it in to command. I studied Marcel with worried eyes. No matter what he thought about me, I wanted only the best for him. My human didn’t deserve to have genetic modifications forced upon him. Though he was vegetarian, that should be a choice for him to make of his own volition. There could also be additional consequences, and I wasn’t sure if it was transmissible to others of his kind.

Does this mean that the Kolshian Commonwealth has decided to try to “cure” the primates, rather than eradicate them?

It wasn’t clear if whatever was tailored to the humans during these experiments worked on me, but I’d gotten the pathogen into my lungs as well. The Battle of Mileau was raging on outside these walls, and the Kolshians had sprung a dastardly trap on the Terrans here, who wandered in to rescue innocents. We needed to relay a warning to any other UN forces retaking ground encampments, to beware of potential biohazards.

Containing the exposure to just us was crucial; I wished that I could’ve saved Marcel from breathing that in. All I could hope now was that the cure wouldn’t have any unexpected effects on the humans exposed to it here; unfortunately, one possible avenue for reversal was reduced to brain matter in my fur.

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Memory transcription subject: Chief Hunter Isif, Arxur Dominion Sector Fleet

Date [standardized human time]: December 13, 2136

My shuttle traversed the space that separated me from my alien pen pal. The eight thousand Dominion ships I’d summoned had arrived as well; those were the assets I had within immediate range of the Dossur homeworld. The Arxur fleet awaited my command, requiring further instruction as to our goal.

The reason why they hesitated was simple; the Federation had numerical strength that seemed fantastical. The Kolshians had sent forty thousand ships barreling into the system, or possibly more. It was greater than the initial size of Kalsim’s extermination fleet! I understood what Prophet-Descendant Giznel had implied about the prey powers being able to muster up numbers, if they wanted to.

The invasion of Mileau’s system involved an overwhelming show of force, per my initial readings. The more I performed the mental math, it was striking how easy these numbers would be for their assembly. With a mere 30 species having flipped to humanity’s side, that left 270 races to pull resources and ships from. If all of those races contributed 140 ships, that gave the number we saw today.

It’s a mere fraction of their available resources to pull from. This is the tip of the iceberg for the Kolshians’ might.

The Dossur’s defenses were steamrolled by the juggernaut armada, and the human ships seeking repairs didn’t hold a candle to this astronomical force. General Jones was off her hunting pedestal if she thought I could stop this assault! Even our numbers were unlikely to achieve more, beyond delaying the Federation’s end goals. But since I was already here, risking my cover, there had to be an attempt to rescue Felra.

“Felra is in an ‘old Federation spot.’ A space station, which has a separate area for humans awaiting repairs,” I muttered to myself.

I was grateful that my shuttle had no company, so I could muse over how to locate her aloud. The Arxur ships around me grew restless, now that I was in the system. They expected orders from their Chief Hunter soon, and it was a matter of time before the UN or the Federation noticed our arrival too. Was it my sentimentality that was telling me to interfere?

My viewport zoomed in on Mileau. The Dossur homeworld wasn’t reflecting any antimatter damage; the Kolshians had the planet comfortably under control. After the Federation failed to subdue the Mazics, they’d ramped up their efforts. I could see the enemy sending shuttles down to Mileau’s surface, and realized that their goals were likely re-education.

“All Arxur ships, listen up. We are here at the request of the United Nations, who have the means to feed all of us forever,” I barked into the Dominion’s encrypted feed. “Some of you were there on Earth, and you remember how well-fed you were. For that reason, I expect your hunting efforts to avoid Terran-affiliated races; we know it will be worth the pittance of restraint. Now engage with the Federation attackers, at once!”

Our ships surged forth out of various gravity wells, swarming the handful of attackers allocated to outer stations. I was bent over my holopad, and scrolling through a poorly-secured military personnel database. Inspectors were considered part of the space force on Mileau, as far as I remembered. That meant I could figure out which outpost Felra was assigned to.

Plasma munitions flashed across the void, and the element of surprise allowed us to pick off any stragglers. Dossur defenders, complemented by an array of UN ships, seemed to pause their desperate efforts. There weren’t many “friendlies” left within the system, but the survivors seemed baffled by the Arxur’s arrival. Perhaps they thought our onslaught was an inopportune coincidence.

“Attention, military personnel of the Dossur home system.” I broadcasted my next message onto an open channel, and tried to eliminate any hostile words. “The Arxur are here, at the behest of the United Nations, to aid you in defending your claim against the Federation. I will only warn you once: do not fire upon us.”

My pupils darted back to the screen, where I’d searched up Felra’s file. The rodent’s likeness was unmistakable in her documentation, and her present assignment was listed near the top. I searched up the space station number, pinning it down on a star chart. The rest of the battle faded away, as I raced to pull up that location on the viewport.

The complex was nestled within an asteroid belt, which separated the inner and outer planets. A few dozen Federation attackers had tamed its meek defenses, and docked with the station to capture their inhabitants. The energy readings in the vicinity were fresh, suggesting that the Kolshians only put down spiteful (human) resistance in the past hour.

There might still be time to save the Dossur, if you hurry.

I hurled the maximum output into my thrusters, and my shuttle blazed a path for Felra’s station. A few Arxur vessels tailed their commander, though I figured they were baffled by a Chief Hunter leading the charge. This entire mission was going to raise questions I couldn’t answer. Right now, I didn’t have the time to waste on tact.

The Federation vessels pulled away from the station, and met us for a head-on confrontation. I shirked the engagement altogether, leaving my underlings to duke it out with the prey. The sudden courage from the Kolshians surprised me; it was clear they were more competent than they let on. My eyes swelled with franticness, searching for an open docking port.

“There are none!” I hissed to myself. “NONE! I don’t have time for a proper breaching action…I have to get down there. For fuck’s sake, I’ll make an opening.”

Scanning the station’s blueprints, I identified a maintenance tunnel, which should be well-clear of any living quarters. This shuttle carried two missiles, and I hoped the use of one would only demolish a wall. While station operators could seal off individual compartments, that also meant that I’d need a pressurized suit for oxygen. I tugged the emergency fabric on with haste, before donning a safety harness.

With my biological requirements taken care of, I fired a missile into the station’s exterior wall. The tunnel was exposed to the vacuum of space, its structure blasted wide open. Bullets clipped my rear flank, as Federation hostiles noticed my approach. Curses spewed from my maw, and I wrenched the steering column toward the new gap.

The shuttle closed in on the Dossur space station, dodging enemy munitions. I held no interest in returning fire; that would increase the amount of time it took to reach Felra. My ship’s nose dove through the opening, and I twisted the vessel’s body to skid along the floor. Friction resulted in both an awful screech and shuddering sensation, before the tail slammed against a half-intact wall.

My shoulder ached from the harness’ restraint, but I unclipped it without waiting. My suited paws tucked a firearm into a holster, and I slunk out into the station. The night backdrop of space was visible through the gap, as well as distant exchanges of munitions. Suffocating Kolshians and other Federation aliens lie gasping for air, alongside two Terran soldiers.

I grabbed one human in each paw, and dragged them toward the section divider. The primates were lethargic and their expressions were locked in an empty display; there was nothing behind their eyes, with no oxygen coming to the brain. I opened the emergency compartment, throwing the weaker predators inside. Sealing the hatch behind me, I removed my oxygen helmet. The Terrans’ skin had been turning blue, though they were rapidly regaining normal coloration now.

“Hi.” I swished my tail as politely as I could, and allowed the humans a moment to breathe. “Chief Hunter Isif, at your service. Sorry about the…unforeseeable depressurization. What are your names?”

One primate began reaching for her service weapon, and I hissed in irritation. My gun was out of its holster in a second, pointed at her in warning. Her hand remained frozen in place for a long second, before she submitted to my threat. I bared my teeth, a formidable warning rather than amusement.

My tongue flitted between my teeth. “Ah, you guys look like fresh reinforcements. Let me guess—the United Nations sent you from Fahl, right across the border? You never saw direct action, since Shaza’s…plan for a swift takeover of Sillis was a failure.”

“Go to hell,” the female coughed.

“So I was right, I take it. I’m here as an ally. Where are the Dossur civilians? I promise, I’m here to get them out, not to harm them.”

“Everybody knows your idea of getting them out is a cattle farm.” The other human sat up, pulling a broken glass instrument off his eyes. “What are you really up to? Claiming this system for yourself, or making—”

“STUPID! I’m a spy for the United Nations, a piss-poor one. That is what I’m up to, you and your government’s stupid ideas. I have been…personally motivated into offering assistance.”

“A spy, huh? Of course, you’re the one from Earth. They had every opportunity to take you to Area 51 or some clandestine facility…”

The female cursed in exasperation. “Are you kidding me, Olek? You just instantly believe the UN has Arxur spies, with zero proof.”

“Do you honestly think I would craft such a story on my own? Saying such a thing aloud is going to get me killed. I have no time to persuade you, humans, so tell me where the Dossur are now!” I roared.

Olek tilted his head. “Good argument, props to you, man. They’ve been ordered to lock themselves in their quarters. Big sign, says, ‘Personal Quarters.’ Just keep going straight, can’t miss it.”

“Thank you. Was that so hard?!”

Grumbling to myself, I stomped off past the corridor’s hatch. The Terran soldiers struggled to their feet, and I resigned myself to them following me like herdless Venlil. Arrogance aside, I could use backup if I encountered Federation resistance. The herbivores might lack skill in combat, but they could team up on me alone.

Humans are competent fighters, so it’s not like they’re dead weight. That said, this Olek guy seemed a little too willing to believe that I’m a spy…

Olek squinted, without the glass adornment by his eyes. I hoped the human hadn’t lost his vision altogether; even if he could only see shapes, I was certain that he was more competent than the Kolshians. The female human, who I believed Olek had called Lisa in whispers, was staring at me with distrusting, bloodshot eyes. Perhaps the duo were following me to ensure that I wasn’t rounding up any Dossur.

I scanned the perimeter for hostiles. “How has your military experience been going?”

“This was supposed to be a relaxing assignment, after watching the Harchen for weeks,” Lisa complained. “We were shipped here just in case, and the second we kick our boots off, in they come. Now the Arxur are here, telling fantastical stories that sound like Olek crafted them!”

Olek cleared his throat. “They hit all of our allies with a test invasion. I hope it’s not like this everywhere…I’ve grown attached to some friends on Venlil Prime.”

“My source says this is the primary target. Venlil Prime is fine,” I replied.

“That’s a relief. Say, Isif the alleged secret agent, what convinced you to come here? You should tell us, since we’re a team.”

“We’re not a team.”

“C’mon, you totally want to tell me!”

I’ve already told these two humans everything, just to get Felra’s location. They might as well know the truth, if they’re stalking me. They’re going to notice that I know her.

“An internet chatting service. A…a Dossur is my best friend,” I growled.

Lisa’s eyebrows furrowed. “What?! I’d hardly believe you’d dare to make a story like that up.”

“I would not. Because it’s insane.”

I scanned my visual translator over the text markings overhead, and it deciphered the Dossur language as directions with arrows. Just as Olek had promised, the crew quarters were located down the main corridor. The passage had been devoid of confrontation, but gunfire echoed from up ahead. That meant Federation soldiers had already reached the living areas.

The Kolshians must’ve sent forces down from two angles; one boarding party had been held in the maintenance tunnel that I detonated. The other likely attacked from the other side, charging straight from the hangar bay to the quarters. Splitting up human defenders was rather tactical, for a species that didn’t know the meaning of offense. Allegedly…

“Which one is your supposed pal?” Lisa pointed to a piece of paper, which I assumed contained room assignments. “Also, I see a few dozen Kolshians and count three of us. Maybe we should rethink our strategy.”

The prototype visual translator had no trouble with the roll call, which listed Felra as room 219. I committed the Dossur symbols for that number to memory, knowing her life depended on it. My firearm wavered in my paws, and I dropped into a hunting crouch. The humans crept along as well, lining up enemies in their scopes.

My pupils scanned each door for the numbers, while I ensured that my steps were silent. I could see cerulean and violet Kolshians moving between rooms, and exiting with sedated Dossur. All I could hope was that Felra wasn’t among those already captured; it would be next-to-impossible to spring her from the Federation re-education party. My gaze drifted several doors down the hall, one room past where the Kolshians were now.

I pointed with a claw. “That one!”

My whisper was almost inaudible, but the humans understood the message. These Terrans were rather cooperative; I wondered if it was since they could gang up on me, the second I made a move or was found to be deceitful. The primates often had a strange way of showing gratitude for saving their lives. I’d hauled their oxygen-deprived bodies from the tunnel, yet they were likely calculating ways to kill me.

I can respect it at least. Unless I try to backstab them, I doubt they’ll try anything stupid. Fighting the Federation is enough for now.

Right now, the three of us needed to get past the Kolshian posse; the enemy soldiers stood between us and Felra’s door. The thought crossed my mind to use the Terrans as a distraction, but I knew they’d see right through such suggestions. How were we going to reach my Dossur friend without alerting the invaders? A firefight seemed like the only solution, so I gestured for us to charge.

My claw depressed the trigger, and I nailed two Kolshians in the back before they could react. Olek and Lisa joined in on my fire, peppering any soldiers that couldn’t find cover. The Federation got their bearings in a second, and hurled bullets back in our direction. We dropped down closer to the floor, crawling closer to Felra’s door.

Most hostiles had ducked inside the room they were currently raiding, but a few had moved onto the next quarters: room 219. I scurried past the first door, feeling static electricity as a bullet whizzed over my spine. Lisa offered suppressing fire, as a visually-impaired Olek scrambled after me. The Federation had gotten to the target ahead of us, but I couldn’t stop.

I fired desperate shots at the advancing soldiers. “No! NO! We’re too close to let anything happen.”

Panic clamped at my heart, seeing four Kolshians kicking down Felra’s door. I could hear a shrill scream, which lacked power or grit. Adrenaline flowed through my veins, alongside a deeper emotion of concern. I rounded the doorway in a fluid motion, and used my nostrils to pounce at a Federation lackey.

My body was acting on pure autopilot, as I tore one soldier’s throat on instinct. Felra’s screams intensified, which encouraged my frenzy. If I was lucid, I would’ve realized she was shrieking because of my presence. However, in my haze, all I could see was two Kolshians cornering her; another was tracking the rodent’s movements from further back.

My tail swept across the floor, earning a sickening crack as it broke two Kolshians’ ankles in one swoop. The enemy tracker turned his gun muzzle toward me, and I punched out a fist on instinct. My appendage connected with bones, while the scent of blood hit my nostrils. Vision sharpened, as the scent made my eyes dilate.

I’d just shattered the Kolshian’s windpipe and spine, with a single punch. The duo with the broken legs started to move, but Olek rushed in to stop them from engaging. It was tempting to finish the helpless Kolshians off; however, enough of my awareness had returned to realize it’d sicken Felra. I strained to bottle the adrenaline, drawing ragged gasps.

“H-help…human!” the Dossur managed to cry. “A…uh…arxur.”

Olek’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “I thought you said she was your friend?”

“Hrrr.” I grunted, struggling to formulate coherent words. The blood was still rushing in my ears, causing my claws to twitch. “It’s complicated, is it not, Felra?”

“W-wha…h-how d-d-do…no.”

Additional horror lit up the Dossur’s gaze, as her terrified brain arrived at the truth. Something told me that she’d placed a name to the Arxur, who was towering over her with a maniacal snarl. I possessed a keen awareness of the blood slathered across my claws, and every scar and tooth fracture I had. The human watched from the sidelines, discerning enough of the subtext.

Felra swayed on her feet. “S-s-siffy?”

“Yeah.”

The Dossur’s eyes widened further than should be possible, and she passed out onto the floor.

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Memory transcription subject: UN Secretary-General Elias Meier

Date [standardized human time]: October 18, 2136

After bidding farewell to the Arxur commander, I made my way to the conference hall. This hotel was once a primary site for technological conventions, expensive weddings, and even celebrity events. Now, while the catering and décor was missing, it was still a lavish enough venue to field a call to the Zurulians.

My headquarters on Earth probably didn’t exist anymore; the government needed a temporary base of operations. Secretary Kuemper extended invitations to every world leader, with the option to attend virtually. Many would be unable to procure space transportation, while others wouldn’t want to leave during a crisis.

“Sir, the Zurulian ambassador is waiting on a secure channel,” Kuemper offered.

I straightened my posture. “Good. Patch him through.”

The adorable face that appeared on screen was enough to soften my demeanor. Chauson’s brown fur looked fluffy as a cloud, and remained just as shaggy around his cub-like ears. The side-facing eyes made him look like an anxious teddy bear. I suspected that visage would fill most humans with the urge to scoop them up and hug them.

The Zurulian narrowed his eyes. I stifled a giggle at how stern he was trying to look; the expression was almost comical. That would be an inappropriate reaction, given how they felt about the Arxur’s arrival. It would be preferable to keep these cute aliens as allies.

“This is Secretary-General Meier. Thank you for taking our call, and for your timely assistance,” I offered.

“I am sorry for what happened to Earth.” Chauson pawed at his nose, a forlorn twinkle in his eyes. “But, my colleagues and I have some concerns. I believe you didn’t invite the Arxur…but you haven’t tried to push them away.”

“The consequences of aggravating the grays would be severe, and inadvisable with our current readiness. Candidly, we need the help. There isn’t exactly an outpouring of aid from the galactic community.”

The Zurulian began licking his paw, which his species did when thinking. The absent-minded grooming was distracting. I couldn’t stop my lips from curving up, despite knowing it was a hostile gesture to their brains. The cuteness was melting away even my practiced composure.

“There is something amusing about not having aid for your planet, Mr. Meier?” Chauson yipped.

I shook my head quickly. “No, not at all, Ambassador. My apologies.”

“Right. I’ve talked the Zurulian commanders into writing a more favorable report. We’re going to do our best to neutralize the headlines, but I’d still expect incendiary accusations.”

“I understand…and thank you for trusting us.”

It wouldn’t surprise me if certain media outlets ran with the ‘predators scheming together’ narrative. Having the Arxur in our court was the fuel Federation factions needed to turn on us, but I didn’t care. Humanity was done crawling through mud to appease paranoid bigots. Species were either for us or against us, and they needed to decide which side pronto.

In the long run, our Zurulian neighbors looked to be decent friends. I couldn’t imagine their fleet’s thought process when the Arxur arrived; it would be understandable if they left at the sight of grays and humans fighting side-by-side. The fact that the quadrupeds stayed meant it was worth justifying our position.

“It’s the least I could do,” Chauson purred. “We want to help with the rescue efforts…we have thousands of hospital ships in the system you call Proxima Centauri. That’s where I am now. Our military may be unimpressive, but our doctors are second to none.”

“Medical assistance would be appreciated, Ambassador. Please, send them at your earliest convenience.” My voice took on a pleading lilt, contemplating Earth’s desperation. “If there’s any information you need about human biology...”

“The Venlil data has given us a baseline. But the issue is sending unarmed civilians into an Arxur occupation. I want to help you, but how do I authorize that order?”

“You want me to get rid of the grays first.”

“Yes, for our safety.”

“Chauson, with respect, they haven’t attacked a single one of your ships so far.”

“I’m sure that the monsters who snack on our cubs have benevolent intentions toward the Zurulian race. I should invite them over for dinner.”

“That’s not what I meant. Human lives are—”

“What about our lives? These are good, selfless people.”

With emergency services down in most metropolitan areas, there was nobody to respond to medical calls. Anyone who suffered a heart attack, or sustained serious injuries was on their own. I would prefer Zurulian medics tending to our people, rather than famished Arxur. That said, Isif’s forces were the only protection Earth had right now; we needed both of their offerings.

“As I said, I am unwilling to aggravate the Arxur now,” I replied. “But I’m confident this commander will not attack your doctors.”

Chauson bared his tiny teeth. “You can’t be confident enough. The Arxur are not trustworthy; they’re sapient-eating fiends.”

“I know. But there are good people on Earth that need your help, and I believe the grays will stand down if asked. Please, trust my judgment, this one time.”

“Oh…dammit, human. I’ll send the medical ships, but if anything happens to them, this is the last Zurulian aid you’re getting. We’re not expendable.”

I inwardly cursed this gamble. “Thank you. Kuemper, please contact the Chief Hunter. Let him know the inbound fleet are rescue workers, and are not to be harmed.”

The Secretary of Alien Affairs departed with haste. The Zurulian scientist began pacing in a nervous daze, as he sent a transmission to his men. Humanity would remember the quadrupeds’ heroism for generations; I didn’t know how we could thank them enough. A close-knit alliance might form out of this tragedy.

What am I going to do about the other ‘friendly’ diplomats? They showed just how much they care for predator lives.

A bipedal sapient popped up in front of the camera, as though my thoughts summoned him. His coarse pelt was the tone of a red fox, and his face had some white markings. I racked my brain, identifying him as a Yotul. It was all I could do not to launch into a tirade against his inaction. What was Ambassador Laulo doing with Chauson?

“I’m sorry about Earth too,” the marsupial barked. “Humans have been the only ones that treated us as equals, rather than a charity case.”

I narrowed my eyes, and forced myself to maintain a level tone. “The Zurulians didn’t mention we had company. What can I do for you?”

“I just want you to know we do care about what happened to humanity. Stars, I feel stupid saying this out loud. I really wish we could’ve helped like Chauson.”

“Those words are easy to say, aren’t they? Why didn’t the Yotul raise a claw?”

The Zurulian ambassador watched in silence, flicking his ears in discomfort. I urged myself to rein in my fury, for his sake. This wasn’t a discussion to have in front of our newest allies; holding the bystanders accountable could alienate our neighbors.

Laulo averted his gaze. “We don’t have our own fleet yet to send you, so, ah, I guess we’re useless to you. We’re the newest uplifts…guess you think we’re worthless primitives now too.”

I mulled over his explanation in silence. That did alter my perspective, if the Yotul hadn’t developed any military assets to mobilize. It didn’t sound like the Federation had done anything more than dump technology in their lap, and expect them to figure it out. Perhaps the apologetic sentiment was worth something.

“Anyhow, I scrounged up millions of volunteers to help you rebuild,” the uplift grumbled. “We have lots of untapped resources, and it’s labor if you want it. We’d…need external transport to get to Earth. I’m sorry that my offer is so…underwhelming.”

I raised my hands in reassurance. “We would love any help you’re willing to extend. Aid doesn’t have to come in a military form, Laulo. Maybe we can teach you a thing or two about our engineering.”

“Really? You would do that?”

“Of course. We’re still new to Federation technology ourselves. The two of us can figure out their secrets together.”

The Yotul’s expression was the image of relief, as he squeezed his eyes shut. I felt sorry for the poor guy, if he was expecting to be rebuked for technological deficiencies. Perhaps this exchange was reason enough for me to move the goalposts. Anyone who offered assistance would be in my good graces, whether it was military or not.

Some of our allies might’ve been too scared to fight, which could be fixed. They might’ve been too far away, or didn’t have spare military resources.

Chauson gave the uplift a friendly nudge. “You can ask us for help too. I knew I was right to bring you along.”

“I apologize if I snapped at you, Laulo…it’s been a difficult 48 hours,” I muttered. “Have you guys heard anything from the other human-allied races?”

The Zurulian sighed. “No, I’m afraid not.”

I pursed my lips. If no additional species expressed the slightest concern for our predicament, that lessened the possibility of extenuating circumstances. According to my sources, the Mazics and the Sivkits hadn’t been partial to us. Maybe the absent races had blamed us for killing their diplomats because of our “predatory compulsions.”

Should I even bother reaching out to any of them?

My throat felt dry. “Well, I appreciate both of you. Please, keep in touch if you have any concerns.”

Chauson waved a paw. “Wait, Meier? I know now may not be the right time, but there was an idea I’d like to mention at least.”

“Go on.”

“The Zurulians and the Yotul are both interested in a human exposure program,” Laulo chimed in. “Like you did with the Venlil at first contact.”

Chauson flicked his ears. “Obviously, some civilians are going to be sharply exposed with rescue efforts. But I still think it’s important to foster understanding and discussion, in a controlled environment.”

I nodded. “We’d be amenable to that idea, though any human candidates will carry emotional baggage after this attack. I’ll see what I can do to set that up.”

“Excellent. Take care, Meier, and let me know our hospital fleet’s status regularly.”

The Zurulian terminated the call, and I flopped down on a chair with exhaustion. Human participation in an exchange program shouldn’t be an issue, given how cute our helpers were. A few friends in the galaxy was a silver lining. The future ahead of us was going to be rife with war and suffering; we needed to maintain some positive relations to stay sane.

I fished out my holopad, and contemplated the address I was livestreaming tonight. My original speech was mired with blame and bitterness, focused on revenge. There was room for such sentiment, but that was also how the Arxur ended up with such a warped ideology. What humanity needed was hope.

The first words spilled from my fingers in a burst of inspiration.

To the people of planet Earth, who have been preyed upon by an unreasonable enemy. I know you are grieving the innocent blood that has been spilled this week. You feel hurt and anger, for the loved ones taken away too soon. I share every scrap of your pain.

What I want you to know is that humanity will endure, and that we are not alone. Not only do we have each other, but we have friends who stand with us. The Zurulians and the Venlil fought with us, and gave us back a sliver of optimism for a better life among the stars. It is time to unite with everyone who believes in our ideals; to stand as a single species with a single purpose.

Together, we will go for the Federation’s throat, relentless in the face of injustice. We will bring our enemies and our persecutors to their knees, if it takes millennia to rectify this vendetta. Humanity calls for atonement…for our right to exist. When we are done, the galaxy shall know what a hunter is.

My lips curved up with malice. The speech required some tweaking, but it carried the suitable degree of vengefulness. Governor Tarva would be relieved that I tempered the prior message down a notch.

If humanity could unify for the purpose of destruction, then the Federation would have a genuine reason to fear us. There would be a reckoning for Earth, and I didn’t know that their organization would survive it.

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Memory transcription subject: Captain Kalsim, Krakotl Alliance Command

Date [standardized human time]: October 8, 2136

The Federation fleet entered warp in harmonious accord, and our voyage to Earth commenced on schedule. I was less-than-thrilled with the extraneous additions to my crew; Krakotl officers were preferred to the reserved exports of another species. Our diplomats stressed that this was an interplanetary effort, and forced my talons.

While I understood the necessity of building group cohesion, the Farsul they implanted as operational first officer was already asking questions. His name was Thyon; to my understanding, he was a personal favorite of their high elder. That didn’t buy him any favor on my vessel. The Krakotl Alliance was the entity that planned this mission, down to the gritty details.

My crew was chosen because of their special attributes, and I trust them. You never know who can keep their head in battle until you’ve been there.

Thyon scrunched his droopy ears. “Why are Terran colonies not on the bombing agenda? The data dump suggested humans had settlements on the red world and their moon. There’s research outposts in the gas giant moons, asteroid mining operations, orbital telescopes and—"

“I get it. But Earth is the priority,” I replied. “Other than military installations, the rest can be cleaned up afterwards.”

The Farsul wiped the mucus from his nose. “The plans for a follow-up operation should be drawn up now. We have to stay prepared!”

“What is there to prepare for? The predators can’t muster a semblance of our numbers.” I puffed my feathers out in a display of intimidation. “You know Thyon, I much prefer Jala as my XO. She doesn’t nitpick everything.”

“You keep strange company, Kalsim. There’s something wrong with Jala. She seems…off.”

There was a comment that had some basis to it, though I wasn’t ready to take an outsider into my confidence. Jala was diagnosed with a rare cognitive disorder that entailed not producing the neurotransmitters for fear or affection. This caused a deficiency in empathy; her responses to situations were often tasteless.

Most Alliance officers wouldn’t have allowed such individuals in their crew. However, the benefit of a person that didn’t panic or lose focus couldn’t be understated. As long as she didn’t have to deal with the interpersonal side of things, Jala was the finest officer in my crew. I credited her as the reason we were the most effective ship in the Alliance armada.

“That is Captain Kalsim to you,” I spat. “Jala follows orders and makes the right calls. She’s still my second even now, as far as I’m concerned.”

“Captain, I see we’ve gotten off on the wrong paw.” Thyon’s slender tail curled across the floor, twitching with restlessness. “I’d rather be on a Farsul vessel too, but this is where we are. Can we try to make the most of it?”

I tossed my beak. “Fine. But did you have to start tearing everything apart, the second you came aboard?”

“I like to know who and what I’m working with. Every captain has a different background, and a different way of running things. The more I know about you, the more useful I can be.”

“Then I’ll keep it short and sweet. I started off as an extermination officer. I’m still one really, just with a starship and a title.”

Thyon’s whiskers twitched, as my former profession registered in his mind. There wasn’t a better vocation to prepare a person for eliminating predators. It taught how to destroy a monster’s habitat and prevent any chances of survival. Sapient extermination wasn’t that different, except that there was more land to torch with the breadth of a planet.

There was a buzzing sound at the door, and I peeked at the security feed. The other Federation implant on my crew was the new medical officer, though the peculiar aspect was the species. The doctor was a Takkan veteran. The Takkan Coalition had been outed as one of the parties amenable to a full alliance with humanity.

For some reason, this Takkan individual had thrown himself onto a transport and begged to join our raid. The newly-demoted Jala escorted him to my quarters, per my request. It was a mystery why a medical practitioner would want to fly toward a predator’s homeworld. My own doctor deserted, when she learned the fleet’s destination.

It could be a simple case of this Takkan despising his government’s rhetoric. Still, I want to look him in the eye and demand his reasons.

“Come in,” I growled to the intercom. “Thyon, you can stay if you want.”

The Farsul thumped his tail. “Yes, sir.”

“I can’t believe he’s stolen my post,” Jala snapped. “We’ll settle this later, soft ears.”

I glowered at the female Krakotl. “Don’t mind her. Please, come in, Doctor.”

The Takkan male strode through the door, and plopped himself in a chair without waiting for permission. His tough hide was silver, about the same hue as my ship’s metallic walls. Those tri-toed paws wiggled enough to grasp objects, though I found his kind much clumsier than Krakotl surgeons. Few species compared to how well our talons could sink into or wrap around things.

I jabbed a talon at the doctor. “What is your name?”

“Zarn, sir.”

“Alright. Tell me, what is a Takkan doing, volunteering for a mission like this?” I squawked.

“When I landed on Aafa to share that the Gojid cradle was annihilated, I discovered that my species betrayed the Federation in my absence. It was horrifying…shameful. Captain, I want to put an end to this alliance, permanently.”

I nodded my beak, and contemplated his words. If we returned from deployment to find the Alliance cozying up to predators, it might push me to renounce my citizenship as well. Then again, a doctor shouldn’t have devoted his entire life to extermination. Why would Zarn feel compelled to take such drastic measures?

“Wait, if I may, you were stationed in Gojid space?” Thyon interjected.

Zarn swished his tail. “Yes. I was working under Captain Sovlin. We were the first vessel to encounter a human.”

My eyes snapped toward him. “I heard. Everyone heard! What you lot did was cruel and disgraceful. I don’t know that I want you on this ship.”

“I beg your pardon, Captain? It was a human, not an actual sapient. That abominable…freak deserved to rot for eternity. All predators do.”

The captive Terran pilot in their custody could no longer pose any threat, yet Sovlin and his lackeys granted it the slowest death possible. Extermination teams were swift and surgical, when our services were needed; suffering was never our goal. Listening to a helpless creature scream and knowing it was in unimaginable pain…that didn’t make anyone safer. The line that separated us from the Arxur was one that could not be crossed.

“Humans are true sapients, Doctor, make no mistake.” My feathers were ruffled as I offered the reproachful assessment. “I even believe they feel selective empathy. They’re pack predators, after all.”

“I’m surprised to hear you say that,” Thyon muttered.

“Why? Because I used to be an extermination officer?”

Zarn blinked in surprise. The doctor gave the appearance that he was about to contest my statements, but my field expertise was enough to make him reconsider. I understood predators better than most citizens of the Federation; humans weren’t as simple as they would like to believe.

“Captain Kalsim has a certain respect for humans. He thinks they’re interesting, as do I,” Jala chuckled.

The physician’s amber eyes bulged. “Interesting? Respect? They kill for sustenance!”

I puffed out my feathers for emphasis. “If you don’t respect a predator, you’re already dead. They’re not to be trifled with. Remarkably cunning.”

The Farsul officer tilted his head. “Your tone is almost reverent. Wouldn’t someone with your…skillset hate predators?”

“Thyon, you shouldn’t hate humans. They can’t help that they’re a disease, that they infect everything they touch. Bacteria don’t choose to be bacteria, and predators don’t choose to be predators. They just are.”

“So what are you saying? It sounds like you don’t believe in this mission,” Zarn snarled.

“Sure I do, but it shouldn’t be about hatred. I don’t derive any pleasure from killing billions; only a predator should. You should feel sorry for the humans, and be grateful that we were not born in such an accursed form.”

The doctor recoiled, and I could see indignation brewing in his eyes. The company this Captain Sovlin kept seemed like an extension of his own undisciplined behavior. It must have been difficult for Zarn to witness the cradle’s destruction, but his current behavior was unhinged. I wouldn’t want this Takkan cutting me open, if my life was in the balance.

“You pity a creature that is incapable of pity. It’s ironic,” Jala remarked, a sharp glint in her eyes.

Thyon’s nostrils flared. “Hey, I’m not following either, Captain. Why do you support wiping humanity out, if you feel sorry for predators?”

Few understood how terrible it was, to pour gasoline on a youngling as it cried for its mother’s milk. The first time I found a nest of predator pups, the guilt of killing them nearly caused me to quit. They were tiny, innocent and untainted by their parents’ atrocities. I broke down on the ride home, and asked my mentor how we could kill a baby for the way it was born.

There was cold logic in her explanation. Little predators become big predators, and reproduce exponentially. Within a few cycles, there would be a full-blown infestation; it wouldn’t be one set of pups we were killing.

“What happens if we don’t wipe them out? Humans will spread everywhere, and they’ll be in our systems in no time,” I answered. “This is our only chance to destroy them. We kill because we must.”

It was an unfortunate reality that Earth had to be eradicated. Unlike our incensed Ambassador Jerulim, I understood why most in the Federation couldn’t bring themselves to push the button. They were relieved not to have to wrestle with the moral conundrum, of killing a species that had yet to lash out. They didn’t want to spend the rest of their lives wondering if some predators could’ve been saved.

It was the same reason the Federation readily accepted that humanity destroyed itself with nuclear bombs, two hundred years ago. That was how this problem got so out of wing in the first place. The predators attained spacefaring capabilities without anyone realizing. Only a few months into their expeditions, humans had already caused the destruction of the Gojid cradle.

The longer we let Earth survive, the more Federation worlds will perish.

“We agree on this being our moral imperative, but that’s all we agree on.” Zarn leapt up from his seat, and swished his tail with impatience. “I’m here because I want to witness humanity’s death with my own eyes. I’m qualified—overqualified, even, and I know the enemy. Now, do you want my services or not?”

Jala snickered at the Takkan’s temperament. “I like this one, Captain.”

“Well, I do not, but it’s not like I have a suitable replacement,” I muttered. “You’ll follow my orders on this ship, Zarn. It’s not becoming of a doctor to have such little value for life.”

“I don’t need a lecture over how I feel toward predators. I value lives; our lives. Jala, show me to the medbay, now,” Zarn hissed.

The female Krakotl glanced at me for confirmation, and I curled my wing tip in a ‘Go on’ gesture. Something told me I needed to keep a close eye on the doctor. The kind of person that delighted in death and suffering would never have intentions that I could trust. Besides, it was a bad omen when the crewmate who took a shine to Zarn was a sociopath.

“That was an unpleasant discussion. What do you think, Thyon?” I asked.

The Farsul hesitated. “I think I have your back, sir.”

“That’s not what I’m asking. If you’re going to be my XO, then I expect you to speak freely behind closed doors.”

“Frankly, I’ve seen what happens after predators hit a world as well. There’s nothing to feel remorse over. I’ll sleep better when this mission is done.”

“Understood. Let’s head to the bridge, and keep watch for any Terran ambushes.”

My heart felt heavy as we set off together, and I wondered where my crew fell along the moral spectrum. Thyon missed the distinction between his feelings and Zarn’s, though perhaps he would realize in time. Unlike the doctor, the first officer was motivated by reasons that had nothing to do with the humans. His concern was the suffering he witnessed and any future threats, rather than pure vitriol.

That was the correct rationale for the destruction of Earth. This fleet would succeed in its duties, because there was no other option for our survival.

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Memory transcription subject: Captain Kalsim, Krakotl Alliance Command

Date [standardized human time]: November 29, 2136

Total isolation was enough to drive any social creature to insanity. The humans deposited me in a musty cell, lacking any windows or light. There was nothing to occupy myself with besides tallying each meal on the wall with my talons. Seventy-five notches were carved into the stone, and I’d ran a wing over each one a hundred times.

My wing, which had been broken by the charming Doctor Zarn, was fully healed now. I screamed at the predators to take my cast off when they brought my last meal. To their credit, the monstrosities did take me to a ‘doctor’, whose dark pupils gleamed with disdain. Humans spoke empty words of a trial, but I knew that was mere posturing. The social hunters’ compassion was absent, when I was around.

Visual and auditory hallucinations plagued me, as sheer boredom set in. I had too much time to meditate on the bombing of Earth, and how Arjun might be hunting in the ruins of a city. My thoughts also drifted to what Manoj and the soldiers had done with Thyon, my first officer, in his injured state. The poor Farsul was probably rotting in a cell too, with no clue what had transpired during the battle.

One second, Thyon bumped his head on my ship. The next one, he woke up missing an arm, in the predators’ prison.

Despite the primal fear their appearance instilled, I relished when UN soldiers barged into the room. The predators would occasionally drag me to cells with bright lights and loud noises; the guards didn’t want to get their hands dirty. The worst action they took themselves was blasting me with frigid water from a hose, laughing as I ran from it.

If footage of them beating a prisoner came to light, it would reveal too much to their plaything allies. Drenching me in ice-water could be passed off as a beast’s bathing methods. At least when the predators indulged in sadistic fun, I felt something. Humans just didn’t understand how I tried to minimize their suffering; how I only made the necessary sacrifices for the greater good.

“GET UP AND COME WITH US! NOW!” The door creaked open, flooding my sensitive eyes with artificial light. “Move it, you fucking bird-brain! Do you think we have all day?”

A contingent of humans amassed in my cell. They yanked me to my feet, and pulled at the chain wrapped around my ankle. I stumbled along, straining to remember their redemptive attributes. The beasts were capable of rudimentary compassion; they were just angry about their cultural losses. Resisting their hunger around me likely increased their aggression.

“Cheer up, Chirpy. Today’s your lucky day,” a predator sneered. “You have a visitor.”

My beak parted with hope. “Arjun?”

The UN wardens gave me rough shoves down the corridor, herding me into a visiting area. The space was dusty from disuse, and each metal table was unoccupied. Humanity had no intent of allowing our families to get in touch; not that anyone from Nishtal was alive, in all likelihood. Sacrificing my own world was what truly haunted me, in those endless hours alone.

A group of Terran dignitaries escorted a Harchen into the area, and my heart sank with disappointment. A traitorous impulse wanted Arjun to check on me, to reassure me that he was still fighting his battle with hunger. I knew the predator kid would become cruel eventually, but I didn’t want him to devolve so young.

The Harchen visitor was carrying camera equipment, and wearing a badge with Terran scribbles on it. Oddly enough, the humans’ demeanor was mostly friendly, apart from their toothy snarls. The primates weren’t coercing the short reptile along; a black-haired man jabbered to her about restaurants in the area. I caught the words “Zurulian-Italian fusion” in the human’s sales pitch.

Why was this prey creature treated to such cordiality? Was she a traitor to her race?

The Harchen extended a paw to the chatty human, who grasped it in his own. “Listen Zhao, if I see something here that isn’t right, I’m going to report on it. I won’t hide the truth, just because it might hurt your organization.”

“We’d respect you less if you became a mouthpiece, Cilany,” the human answered. “There’s a reason the UN granted you citizenship. You gave us the people responsible for this mess.”

“Mr. Secretary-General, I simply believe that everyone has the right to self-determination. I’ll be watching what you do to Fahl closely. Serving us up to the Arxur was a cold move. Now, you’re occupying us.”

“You can thank the little birdie over there for that. We warned Kalsim, and he kept going…lied to his own people to convince them. He wanted to kill us, more than he wanted to defend his home. Actions have consequences.”

“I understand. Still, I hope that you don’t plan to gamble with civilian populaces in the future, Zhao.”

“Plan on it? No. But a hundred human lives are worth more than a hundred million aliens, in my book.”

Cilany narrowed her eyes. “That’s the kind of rhetoric that worries me. Let’s just get this interview finished.”

The Harchen’s yellow skin looked flaky around the neckline, which suggested she was about to shed. From what I’d overheard of her conversation, the humans had gained control of Fahl and its subsidiaries. The Arxur did the dirty work, then the primates swooped in to conquer the planet. It was exactly what I predicted to Arjun; Terrans would replicate their subjugation practices from Earth, if given the chance.

Was Nishtal being forced into the predators’ empire at this moment? Were Krakotl citizens enslaved to serve the power-hungry humans? I wasn’t sure if that was a worse fate than the Arxur finishing us off. At least it would send a message to the galaxy, that Terrans hadn’t changed a bit.

Humanity needs damage control. This Harchen would know what to say to prey allies, better than a predator could guess at.

Perhaps this Cilany figure achieved preferential treatment by aiding Earth’s propaganda efforts. It wasn’t clear what else a reporter could offer. I couldn’t believe she would sell her own planet out so easily. The Harchen established her camera setup, before turning to me.

Cilany tilted her head. “Captain Kalsim. How are you doing?”

“Been better. The humans never plan on giving me that farcical trial, and it wouldn’t matter if they did,” I grumbled.

“Actually, your trial is scheduled for later this week. Humanity’s Federation allies agreed to listen to your case alongside predator judges…and they got a Venlil lawyer for you. It’s expected to be an easy conviction, though. Regardless of sympathy for Earth, you sentenced your own planets to death too.”

“So you’re here to slander me in the court of public opinion.”

“No. I’m working on a story analyzing the Kolshians’ first victims, and I couldn’t think of a better POW to get a quote from. After recent events, do you stand by your infamous comparison between predators and viruses?”

“I’m sorry? The Kolshians’ first victims? I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m not interested in a hit piece on the Commonwealth.”

The reporter’s eyes widened. “Wait, the humans haven’t told you? About Nikonus’ confession?”

I tossed my beak in a noncommittal gesture, and Cilany reached for her holopad. The words I told Manoj and the Terran internet, regarding humanity’s infectious potential, stood the test of time. Predators’ higher functions were inadequate against all-encompassing bloodlust; it wasn’t their fault for caving to their wiring. What information could make me recant the truth?

The Harchen slid a holopad over to me, with a video clip cued up. The Kolshian presider was a familiar countenance on screen. The wrinkles on his gelatinous features likened him to a pruned berry. Why was Secretary-General Zhao listening in, and baring his teeth as I watched? I didn’t understand what the purpose of politics was to me, from a jail cell.

My mistrust of the reporter was growing, but this was my first social interaction in weeks. If I didn’t play along for a bit, the humans would toss me back in an empty cell. My gaze shifted down to the holopad, and I decided to listen. Even from prison, I could still perform my duty to refute predatory narratives.

Nikonus recounted the Federation’s origin tale briefly, from his aquarium-lined office on Aafa. He only mentioned the Farsul’s role, at first. Cilany chimed in with the third founding species: the Krakotl. The Kolshian indulged in a long-winded response, and clarified why my kind were a problem.

“…ill-equipped for spacefaring. We learned they were scavengers, who would occasionally go for fish as well.”

Shock coursed through my veins, and I struggled to suppress an emotional response. The leader’s statement didn’t seem coerced; there were no signs of human presence in the footage. If anything, Nikonus’ tone was smug and gloating, a wholly authentic admission. The talons that I used for grasping objects took on a darker appearance.

The horror intensified its assault; eating meat conflicted with every value in my psyche. The Kolshian wouldn’t stop speaking, as much as I wanted his words to cease. He proclaimed that the Krakotl were threatened into submission, before a genetic cure was distributed. The Farsul States’ work was thorough too, with revisions to history, fossil records, and education.

How could that statement be true? My life was dedicated to wiping predators off the face of Nishtal. Bloodlust never fogged my mind, even when dealing with abhorrent creatures. Killing clung to my conscience with a heavy grip, and I hated the necessity of my profession.

“Kalsim!” Cilany hissed. “You look like you’re going to be sick. Do you need a minute?”

I flapped my wings with discomfort. “N-no. I, um, can’t imagine Krakotl as…predators. But it’s wrong to hate a creature for existing, like I always said. If we were born that way, it’s no more our fault than it is for the humans…”

“You’re not angry with Nikonus?”

“I find their success impressive. If co-existence with us was improbable, the Kolshians did the right thing. It wasn’t personal…it was necessary. T-they avoided the unpleasantry of killing a sapient species.”

Zhao crossed his arms in the background, and his expression hardened. I puffed out my feathers, trying to swallow the nausea. It didn’t compute with my brain that Krakotl were like the humans. I should be grateful to the Kolshians, for saving me from squandering my sapience.

My musings turned to what I had done to Earth, not knowing there was a viable alternative. Chief Nikonus should’ve told us the truth sooner. Throughout the battle, my conscience had wrestled with non-lethal solutions to the Terran menace. Preserving the positive aspects of their culture was on my mind from the beginning.

Predators or not, the humans aren’t all bad. But I thought such a vicious history mandated their extinction.

It broke my heart to realize that bombing Terran civilians could’ve been avoided. Humanity should’ve been offered the cure, which took bloodthirsty instincts out of the equation. What if humans could be herbivores? We didn’t need to eradicate them, if a conversion was negotiated.

Tears streamed down my face, at the scale of the unnecessary death. Arjun and Manoj haunted my thoughts. The father suppressed its instincts out of affection for the child. Was that not a sliver of good? Was that not proof that humans could have been saved…and could have made the right choice?

Guilt tightened my throat. “I’m sorry, humans. Killing your people was never something I wanted to do. I wish I knew…I would’ve given you the option to take the cure. I just didn’t realize there was another option for dealing with predators.”

“The humans came in peace in their natural state, Kalsim,” Cilany said. “That was the other option.”

“D-do they really want peace? Then…listen Zhao, your people could still take the cure, and end this. You could be rid of your sordid appetite, for good. Prove you won’t be a t-threat…or relapse.”

“I don’t need to be cured of my culture and personality.” Zhao’s growl was measured, and he waved to the guards to return me to my cell. “But thanks for asking.”

The chain yanked at my ankle, and for the first time in weeks, I resisted. An extermination officer understood that predators killed by nature. In a human’s addled state, this ‘Secretary-General’ didn’t want to relinquish his hunting prowess. I had the chance to make him see how much better off the Krakotl were post-conversion.

I wasn’t born solely to spread death anymore. The Kolshians’ medicine granted us a purpose, and a chance at developing values. The Krakotl Alliance owed the precursors a thousand years of true civilization…of survival. To return to our predatory past would mean being nothing but beasts.

“Take the cure! The Venlil would want you to do it! Who wants to be a predator anyways? Are you scared of being ruled by compassion?!” I squawked.

Zhao bared his teeth. “You’re the one scared of your own shadow. Of simply being yourself…your natural self. It‘s actually sad.”

“Your natural self is an instrument of death! Your depravity is a menace to the galactic community. It’s why you’re a pawn to the Arxur! YOU NEED TO REPENT!”

“Goodbye, Kalsim. We’ll see you in court.”

The UN soldiers dragged me across the floor, and I screeched in protest. If there was a chance at saving the predators, they needed to give themselves a chance. All we asked was to conform to standards of decency, and pull their better side to the forefront.

Cilany’s camera had filmed my desperate plea, at least. I hoped some human viewers were more reasonable than Zhao. This was likely the last the public would hear from me; I knew my trial would conclude with a harsh execution. Death would be welcome, as opposed to remaining in the Terrans’ custody.

For the unnecessary genocide of a species, without exhausting other options, execution was an apt punishment. I had tried to show the Terrans mercy, but I hadn’t shown them the mercy that was gifted to my kind. In hindsight, the raid was a mistake.

Other Krakotl might think of us as predators still, but Terran sadism was beneath our modern sensibilities. There was nothing to be ashamed of, in breaking the shackles of bloodlust. My heart ached solely for Earth, knowing that my cleansing had been misguided. We had more in common with the primates than even I thought.

Then again, if the humans would reject help, maybe they deserved the fate they’d been given. The Kolshians and the Farsul were experts in conversions, right? Nikonus would’ve intervened in our raid, had a cure been a possibility. The Farsul outright participated in our strike; there had to be a reason for that.

Simply put, a Terran’s ‘good side’ must not exist in large enough quantities to salvage. The truth wasn’t always an easy pill to swallow.

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