The Nature of Predators

Memory Transcription Subject: Tassi, Bissem Alien Liaison

Date [standardized human time]: October 27, 2160

Finding myself staring at Ambassador Loxsel, who was newly-arrived to the Sivkit settlement on Ivrana, I couldn’t help but be floored by the size of the mountain of oranges that he was sitting on.

The incoming supply of oranges was what convinced him to pack his bags for our planet—not the fact that Bissem and Sivkit engineers were working on building ships together. Despite the speciesist remarks about being Sivkit-brained, the fluffballs seemed quite clever; their machines were resilient and meant to last, something needed for expedition ships that saw use for years. Shedding the Federation’s yoke had allowed them to catch up a bit on the learning path, and innovate to fill the gaps. The fleet wouldn’t hold up against the entire galaxy, or a strike force like we’d seen at Talsk, but we were no longer completely defenseless. Gaining two powerful allies in the Arxur and the Yotul would shield us even further, but that was why I was welcoming Loxsel in person. The flamboyant Sivkit needed to somehow be convinced to join an alliance that involved the Arxur Collective.

General Naltor had been waiting for the battles at Aafa and Nishtal to draw nearer before making a move; those worlds were further from the border of SC space, which meant the enemy took a substantive amount of time to reach the planets, facing a scattering of FTL disruptors. As grueling as the trek was, with the interstellar distances they were traveling, it was a miracle that they could get there within months at sublight speeds. Then again, that was misleading, when their main option to speed up the process was taking out disruptors and hopping along at microscopic warp distances. I knew our potential recruits for the Carnivore Alliance would be too distracted by this impending assault to give us their full attention. The Farsul, however, were eager to swear fealty to us, after we saved them and took in refugees.

I wonder how the Farsul and the Sivkits are getting along. We’ve kept them separated, but including both parties in an alliance…the Farsul destroyed and hid Tinsas, then broke the natives’ spines and purposefully dumbed them down. Let’s start with selling him the Arxur.

“I’ve seen that the humans will not cannonade Tinsas. Erelong, they’ll roll over, capitulate, to the certainty of expiry! Hearken, Tassi, our days are numbered.” Loxsel stalked down the pile of citrus, before purposefully sinking deeper into it, to take on the appearance of drowning. “Death amid this glorious herbary of oranges, which you so kindly remanded, is nigh. There are worse fates; natheless, this humble scullion of Bissems is saying farewell! I accept oblivion, for we are doomed! Wanion upon us!”

I stared at where his ears stuck out amid the fruits, unamused. “Good morning, Loxsel. Remind me of our deal?”

“For every loquacious speech I give, a Sivkit refugee is eaten! I volunteer Elder Ransfa; she is old, and has very little life ahead of her! Death will be a tantivy for her; her caducity speaks for itself. Claim her flesh now, or NEVER! She won’t make it long enough to be a plaything for the grays.”

“Hey, eating Sivkit refugees was not our deal. Also, Loxsel, you know if an Arxur took you as cattle, they would not make it through a minute of your yammering.”

“Cut!” The Sivkit emerged from the fruits, and placed a knife in my flippers; I immediately questioned why he was carrying a weapon, and briefly considered that he might’ve given it to me to frame me. “Yammering was a good word, for you, but you have no stage presence, Tassi. I’ve given up on getting you to move as you deliver your lines. Just twirl the knife menacingly, maybe place it in your beak after; then lean toward me.”

“I’m not delivering lines. I’m trying to have a conversation.”

“Those are the same thing! Where is your conviction? You must speak with passion—what even is your passion? Have you more in your heart than ingurgitating fish?”

I pressed a flipper over my eyes, throwing the knife on the ground. “Finding aliens was my passion. I have lived to regret that.”

“That was a good non-verbal! I’m proud of you. It’s lacking expressions like ‘woe is me’ or ‘this shall be the death of me’; those are simplistic ones, with your rudimentary speech patterns. Work those in.”

“I can feel the years of my life ticking down with each of our chats.”

“Yes, good! I believed you there, Tassi.”

“Because I’m speaking the truth.”

The Sivkit’s face turned crestfallen. “I…thought you liked studying literature with me.”

“I do, Loxsel,” I said hurriedly, not wanting to hurt his feelings. “What I don’t like is how you try to perform, or talk over my head, all the time, then…try to make me act like a lunatic too.”

“Act like? There is no ‘act like’; I am one! An actor must become their role, and I can’t thole anything short of devotion, of one’s entire being! Dedication, supplanting your flimsy whims. Transformation, rebirth.”

Struggling to hang on to why I’d come in the first place, I tried to get back to Naltor’s goal. “So you’re frustrated that the humans haven’t tried again to take Tinsas. And you think you’re going to become playthings for the grays?”

“The Arxur have returned, and prowl somewhither in this region! An army that’d delight in a savory, recreant Sivkit, and you,” Loxsel hung on the accusatory word, circling around me, “commanded them into battle. The Bissem general proclaimed it to the SC thralls; I heard it!”

“The Arxur saved Talsk.”

“Is that supposed to be a good thing? Every crevasse of Tinsas’ desert shall glaciate before we forgive a one of those floppy-eared varlets! Aroint the Farsul from these lands, Bissem, have you any pity for a lowly grazer!”

“Listen to me, Loxsel,” I pleaded. “Forget about the Farsul. The Arxur are powerful, and they have an army. Remember how you said you were upset the humans weren’t the…bloodthirsty predators that’d exact your vengeance?”

“Naps were invented from being around the glabrous Terrans, and getting put to sleep by their hunting doldrums! My plays are much less jejune: though I fear the simians’ performances might render it so. They are so uninteresting that they make you look spirited, Tassi.”

“Thanks? Look, my point is, if you truly don’t like how the Terrans are handling this, and you want a species that’s more predatory…that might be able to go all out for Tinsas…you should talk to the Arxur. They could protect you, since you’re with carnivores like us, and maybe go after what you want. They also succeeded against this enemy at Talsk, while the SC lost their prior engagement.”

Loxsel’s eyelids twitched erratically. “Are you saying we partner with the grays, walk ourselves into their cattle pens, so they can rain fire on Tinsas at our behest?”

“Retract the cattle pen part and yes. If you want a truly predatory species as an ally, that’s your only option. We could make it happen.”

“I see.” Wicked delight gleamed in the Sivkits’ eyes, and he picked up the knife with determination. “Why didn’t I think to sic the grays on the thieves of our world? Take me to their leader!”

“Oh? Uh, okay, we can do that: just not right now. I need time to…” prepare their leader for this over-the-top ball of psychosis. “…get in touch with the Arxur, and arrange the meeting. We’ll let you know when they’re available. In the meantime, you can think over your terms and…eat your oranges. There’s so very many.”

Loxsel picked up an orange, scraping a knife against its peel in slow motion. “Fine. Bring me more of these…or else.”

“I’ll, um, have someone bring you more soon. Goodbye, Loxsel.”

I strolled away from the self-proclaimed lunatic, relieved that I’d improvised a way to get him to agree to an alliance with the Arxur with such ease. If Kaisal was introduced to Ambassador Loxsel, however, I wasn’t sure he’d be keen on buddying up to the Grand Herd. Getting the Bissem public used to the Sivkits was challenging enough, when the entire area next to their village had already been stripped of grasses and vegetation. We needed to find an alternative food source for them quickly, and I didn’t think we could ship enough oranges from Earth to stem the tide. The Farsul might be the ones that would have ideas on that, but I’d never consult them for their expertise on shaping species to fit their wishes.

The refugees from Talsk were living a more quiet existence on Ivrana; their planet must’ve been quite impoverished after the war, since they reacted to our basic aid like it was an overflowing pool of wealth. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, and I doubted they would exact any conditions to ally with us. We just needed to keep a close eye on them, ensuring they didn’t try to change us the way they’d done “curing” the Arxur, or in the cultural manipulation sense they tried with every species. All the same, having a presentable alien race might be instrumental in getting Bissem volunteers to take in the Osirs. We had less than two months before the resurrected carnivores, who we knew nothing about, were born.

That left the Yotul in Naltor’s domain, since he could keep up with the shrewd marsupials; the intelligence sharing plot was a counter-shot at the Terrans, for attempting to twist a Fishing for Alien Intelligence scientist into a spy. I was more hopeful that I could make headway with the recruits I had proposed, the Zurulians. Bissems had worked with their rescue crews on Talsk, and collaborated with them to divvy up the Farsul refugees. They’d been more than happy to ramp up training for our doctors abroad, focusing a lens on the Sivkits and our newest guests. If they were willing to embrace us as equals and academic peers, that was good enough for me. I appreciated their charitable hearts amid the sea of extraterrestrial bigots.

After talking with Loxsel, video calling Ambassador Chauson back at the Sapient Coalition sounds like a walk on the beach. The Zurulians are not a top priority for Naltor, but they’ve quickly become my lifeline. I need someone with the right intentions on our team.

“Doctor Tassi!” The brown-furred quadruped tilted his head, with the unusual semi-circle ears that had caught my eye from our first meeting—and seemed to catch the Terrans’ eye as well. “To what do I owe the pleasure? How are the refugees settling in?”

I panned the camera to show the scene behind me. “Depends which ones you mean. The Grand Herd make the Tseia look stationary, with how quick they move from one green patch to the next. I’m not sure they even stay in the housing we gave them.”

“Yes, the Sivkits do have that reputation. While I appreciate your generosity, perhaps you bit off more than you can chew; they can wreak havoc on worlds. I understand yours is already in dire straits. Colia wouldn’t necessarily even be willing to take them, though perhaps could find a way to offload them for your sake.”

“What? No! I appreciate that, Ambassador, but we don’t want them gone. Not as of right now, anyway. With any luck, we’ll get their homeworld back, and this will all be temporary.”

“I’m not sure Earth wants to take another run at Tinsas: certainly not with attacks on two worlds, bringing those kind of ship numbers to our doorstep. Our offensive was rebuffed decisively…more lopsided than our victory at Talsk. The enemy at least got a few shots in there.”

“The entirety of the Sapient Coalition didn’t back Talsk. The real test is Nishtal. I understand the humans rallied the greatest force since they took Aafa.”

“And ferried in a ton of fortifications. It’s no Kessler Cage; the Krakotl would veto plans to add those sort of defenses, I imagine,” the Zurulian chuckled.

“That debris field was Talsk’s saving grace. If we don’t stop the drones before they get there, then Nishtal is going to be obliterated.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. I suspect, as a contingency, we both should be prepared to take Krakotl refugees as well. The relocated civilians might find their displacement is of a more…permanent nature, if this goes wrong.”

“We’ll be ready to help if we’re needed. At least most of the populace has been moved out of harm’s way.”

“They had to be, Tassi. Their numbers were so depleted, between Nishtal’s bombardment, the mass suicides after the omnivore reveal, and the civil war. They were one of the species hit the hardest. A loyal follower of Federation ideology, gutted to the bone for it.”

Sympathy tugged at my chest. “It’s a sad story. I’m disappointed just how many sad stories there are out in space. The Zurulians seem to be one of the few happy tales.”

“We were lucky, I guess, that our altruistic missions were deemed suitable for Farsul appropriation. Am I glad I gave the human visitor a chance, all those years ago? Certainly. I listened to the science, persuaded my people, and we were rewarded for that; we landed on the right side of history. I’m sure you know what it is to be in the position of convincing your higher-ups.”

I chuckled. “They don’t listen to the experts until they realize they have no idea what they’re doing, here on Ivrana. The sad part is, by the time that dawns on them, it’s often too late.”

“Zurulians might’ve been like that once. The Farsul making our culture wholly about medicine might’ve backfired on them, making the lab results have a greater sway on us. I can’t say. It might look rosy from the exterior, Tassi, but there’s still so much that was taken from us. Depth. Knowledge of our past. Flaws.”

“I don’t know if it’s a bad thing to lose your flaws. Ours have us in a global war at the most critical juncture in our history. If I could wave a flipper and make Bissems lose our worst traits…”

Chauson wrinkled his nose. “No, you don’t mean that. It’s still a part of you, shaping your culture with an invisible paw…influencing your actions and the paths you walk. It’s hard to foresee the consequences of taking away one little thing. There are complex reasons for your conflict, that you need to work out yourselves. I wish you’d stop the senseless bloodshed, but I wouldn’t change you if I could. Not even if it whooshed the war away.”

“Thank you for not judging us. I wish the SC could see us for the sum of what we are, not the worst parts. They’re looking for any excuse to believe we’re monsters.”

“The humans were there once. Give it some time. It’s unfortunate, but who really cares what a few small-minded parties think of you? You don’t want hateful people by your side anyway, so you have to walk on glass. The Terrans had to hide a vast part of their culture to get along; those aren’t friends. We should’ve moved past that. You can do better.”

My heart felt warmed by Chauson’s kind words; he had an air of wisdom about him. “Thank you. I think you’re right. We can do better, and I think better is…you. The Zurulians. We’d like a more personal alliance with anyone who won’t push us away…who’ll accept us. I’d like our species to be friends.”

“Oh, we are friends, dear Tassi, but I’m not sure what you mean by a more personal alliance. Would we open embassies, and continue to welcome you to study in our institutions? Gladly. However, we are solely affiliated with the Sapient Coalition, and intend to stay that way. Since you’re in the SC, we’ll afford you the same privileges as any of our other allies.”

“What if we…weren’t in the SC, Chauson? We’re a little concerned they’re going to force us out eventually. They’re looking for any excuse. They don’t want carnivore allies.”

“If you’re unjustly cast out, we’ll continue to work with you. You have my word.”

I hesitated, uncertain how much to tell the Zurulian. “Ambassador, I’ll be candid with you, since I respect you; I sincerely want us to work together. There’s a few other parties that have been left out by the SC, or are disgruntled with it as an organization. We’re feeling like outsiders, so we want to establish our own…sphere of influence. A union of misfits, one could say.”

Chauson’s eyes gleamed, as he was silent for a long moment. “This has something to do with you taking refugees. You want allies who also have nowhere else to turn.”

“I’m definitely not supposed to say yes to that, but you’re right. Bissems direly need friends. I know there’s nothing you’d have to gain, and I’m still asking you to stand with us. On the right side of history.”

“I see. Just to be clear, what exactly are you proposing?”

“If there’s any way we could have a prolonged partnership, beyond the SC’s bounds, it’d mean so much to us. It could be something as simple as working together on humanitarian missions, and signing deals to share the burden of refugees. We want to be a part of the galaxy. Bissems feel like we’re left on our own, and everyone’s out to take advantage of us. You’re the only one who just…cares.”

Chauson drew a sharp breath. “We pushed for the SC to help you, when it became apparent that Ivrana was hanging on the precipice of ecological collapse. We’ll do so again, if you need someone to stand up for you. We’d always cooperate on an aid mission with anyone willing. If having terms in writing would ease your mind, the Zurulians would be happy to do so.”

“Thank you, Ambassador. I personally appreciate your support.”

“Don’t mention it. I trust we’ll meet again in the SC’s halls, quite soon. The Battle of Nishtal is likely to be under way in the next few weeks, and I imagine you’ll be there to see the results.”

“I’ll be hoping for the best.”

“We all will be. Take care, Tassi.”

The Zurulian disconnected from the call, and for the first time since first contact, I felt pure excitement to have an alien representative pledging to stand with us. Gaining Chauson’s support in any way was a reason to maintain optimism, that Bissems could come out of this with an alliance that stood for more than self-interest. So far, I would say that General Naltor’s plan to formulate our oddball alliance had been a success. With a vast majority of our target parties being amenable to joining flippers with us, that left only finalizing the deal with the Yotul and the Osirs.