The Nature of Predators 2-87

Memory Transcription Subject: Taylor Trench, Human Colonist

Date [standardized human time]: February 14, 2161

Gress’ belief that the Krev Consortium was that insidious hadn’t quite landed with me, after witnessing the depths of evil within the Federation. Learning how even the herbivores were subdued and tampered with, from the Sivkit we found on Tellus, had made shady surveillance and false flag operations seem tame by comparison. I could almost overlook it altogether, since they’d afforded me happiness and come to the rescue with Ark Ship 3’s plight—despite our predatory appearance. They were the first aliens that hadn’t hated or tried to kill us, in fact quite the opposite.

It was why I so readily forgave the Krev’s tendency to fawn over every little thing we did, since it was so innocuous by comparison. Deep down, the attention was…kind of nice after a lifetime of neglect and loneliness; I was almost touch-starved enough that I would’ve let them pet me, but my last shreds of dignity won out. I believed in their goal of hiding from the Federation, but here they were, in the Farsul extremists’ records, plain as day. What had angered me was seeing how they’d destroyed my boyfriend’s life, using him as their fall guy to take him out of the picture. I understood why that’d sow mistrust and outright paranoia. From the way Gress was looking at the screen, he thought that his version of events was about to be proven correct.

Whatever we unearth in these files, it’s evident that Tellus and any unwitting parties in Consortium space need to know about this. If Gress is right about this being a smoking gun of some deep-rooted corruption, then…maybe I won’t have to find a different liaison than Radai. That peace deal could be torn to shreds.

“You think the Consortium worked with the ghost Farsul,” I said to Gress, as the SC delegation perused the files to choose what to open first. “That’s quite the leap. Maybe they were influenced unwittingly, but they wouldn’t help kill predators. They certainly wouldn’t leave a colony of human squatters alive.”

Gress laughed bitterly. “Taylor, stop trying to convince yourself. It was all just a game. I can see it. The saving grace is that Farsul everywhere keep such meticulous records of their damned schemes. Whatever they got up to, it’ll be right there. These delegates look at me like I know—and I do. I told them. There was no Federation, just an eye in the sky…”

“This isn’t helping. I know it’s been stressful for you to find out everything the Consortium did was pointless, but you’re losing your grip. We can deal with this together. I’m sure there’s an explanation for all of it, and we don’t have to go straight to a worst-case scenario. Shit, this could be new data, from what the Remnants heard through the grapevine. The KC was helping us in the war against the Fed—”

“They have to pretend to! That’s their threat, which supposedly they want to eliminate. Everywhere, it’s a war on the truth—altering the sky’s fabric to fit your narrative, and chasing ghosts for eternity. It’ll be for an eternity soon. Oh, you’re right that there’s an explanation. I’m not crazy. You’ll see.”

“The ghosts of…the Federation? I mean, we’re literally calling them the ghost Farsul. You don’t need to—never mind.” I shoved my hands deep in my pocket, biting my tongue. I don’t want Gress to have a fit, and the guards to escort him from the building. “Yeah, okay. I’ll see soon.”

The Krev looked eager to be vindicated, as Secretary-General Osmani pulled up the first chronological file from the Archives. The data was decoded into human script in no time, and the header at the top painted a telling picture of where it came from. It was acquired on Tinsas—which I read as Tellus. The ghost Farsul had been on our home, but when? Surely not while we were there, combing through the Sivkit bunkers that Mafani somehow knew about. If the Underscales knew about them all along, and so did these extremists, then it begged a question about whether those threads were connected.

A Farsul archivist appeared on screen, eyes gleaming as she gave the intro. “We located a Sivkit probe, launched as part of what seems to be a thousand-year recovery plan. An escaped predator disease patient from the Sivkit Grand Herd had nearly reached it, but we were able to intercept it.”

“Mine! My bruits are validated forthwith!” Loxsel yowled in triumph, as if he wasn’t up shit’s creek for withholding information about the ghost Farsul. “The charnel of our erudition, bequeathed by Sivkits bygone! Tenebrous Farsul snatched it from my claws—woe!”

Naltor scoffed at the dramatic ambassador. “Can we hear the rest of this?”

“Not can. Yes, you may!”

The Farsul elaborated on why the Sivkit probe was important to her cause. “We long since had the idea of expanding our operations back toward Tinsas and the parts of space beyond where our ideology reached, starting anew. There’s too much risk of us being discovered by the blighted humans, ever since the fall of the Federation."

“Humans?” I echoed. “That means it’s after we won the war. This is the first file they have on the Krev; their influence can’t run too deep.”

Gress’ shoulders sagged. “What?”

“You wanted your government to be secret pawns of the Farsul?” Cala squawked; I had almost forgotten the Krakotl Peacekeeper was accompanying us. “It sounds like they got ideas to go meddle in Krev space and found out enough about you to rethink. You sure as shit can’t be converted to Feddies. Let’s see.”

The archivist continued speaking in a mundane, bored tone. “We believe the Sivkits had some initiative to preserve data for future generations. While the human predators have returned many species to their unspeakable starting places—and regressed them even further than that, in some cases—we had an opportunity to prevent our brethren’s work from being undone with the Sivkits.”

“Those poor bastards,” I muttered. “The Federation did them so dirty, and the Tellish shot them away from their homeworld when they finally found it. I’m glad they’re moving back in.”

“Slowing the Terrans’ work is our primary goal, which meant we had to investigate the Sivkit knowledge repositories. The probe contained some data on their explorative activities into neighboring systems after first contact, which was crucial insight for a region we might wish to base ourselves in. This was the first instance we found of Krev.”

“To whoever may be listening, this is Chapter 54 of Sivkit history and achievements.” The holographic figure of General Anxsel, who’d narrated the Federation’s imperialistic conquest back in the bunker, replaced the archivist’s introduction; I narrowed my eyes, wondering what he could possibly know about the Krev. “After receiving faster-than-light travel technology from Federation visitors, we set about to explore neighboring systems and search for potential colony sites. A mere two hours of travel away, the Sivkits stumbled upon a medieval species called the Krev.”

Gress blinked in surprise. “The Sivkits knew about us a thousand years ago? Why didn’t the Federation find us? Or did they?!”

“The Sivkit Grand Farmdom studied their planet, Avor. The Krev were dominated by the Prevan Empire, who came to rule over their peers as protectors; curiously, they invented fictional monsters and convinced the world they alone could slay them. A fascinating and imaginative species, much unlike the ‘perfect herbivores’ I know we’re being fashioned into. We Sivkits realized, as our last act of defiance, that we couldn’t let the Federation find them. The Krev deserved a chance to develop without their ‘helping paw.’”

I remembered Anxsel as someone who saw the tide of Federation tyranny coming. However, I hadn’t expected that they’d known about their green-scaled neighbors when they were far less sophisticated, and had taken the proverbial bullet for them. No species deserved to have the “peaceful prey” dogma enforced on them, to become a watered-down, cowardly version. Avor as I knew it—the planet that had finally offered aliens with true personality and constitution—wouldn’t exist as anything more than another Venlil Prime. I liked Governor Laisa plenty, but the fate of the Skalgans was one worse than death.

I felt sorry enough for the Sivkits as is, but hot damn. They protected Gress and his entire society, with the ghost Farsul only finding them once they’d have a chance to fight back. For that, I have immeasurable gratitude, and I imagine he feels that even more strongly. I can’t fathom the idea of him cowering at the sight of humans!

“Wow, that wasn’t what I expected to hear. The Sivkits tried to save you from enduring what they went through,” I breathed, wrapping an arm around Gress’ shoulders. 

The Krev’s eyes were watery with shock. “And we shot at them! Without the Sivkits, we would’ve been as deadened and weak as any of their herbivores. I shudder to think what our society would be…and how we’d feel about humans. I had this very wrong, Taylor. The Consortium…must know of their sacrifice. It would give them a good reason to be more welcoming and altruistic when the Sivkits move back to Tinsas.” 

“Be glad they didn’t find you. You could’ve led the extermination fleet instead of us,” Cala trilled with a hint of vitriol. “You wouldn’t have found the primates so cute.”

“That’s not true. It’s in my blood to look at those pinchy cheeks and melt!”

“Oh, don’t start,” I groaned. “Listen to the floppy-eared imperialist.”

The Farsul had reappeared on the screen, as Anxsel’s note ended. “After we learned about this Krev species detected long ago, our mission was clear. We had to investigate Avor and assess how open they’d be to a conversion, and find any other hidden Sivkit data. The latter could give us quiet insight, so we headed for Tinsas. And that…that was when we met the Krev ourselves, as the rest of the files will expand upon.”

“Wait, what?! Those extremist Farsul visited Tellus, and they didn’t say anything?! Surely I’m interpreting that wrong. Maybe they shot at them or went undetected.”

Cala’s beak parted with suspicion. “I don’t think so, Taylor. The Farsul lived to report back. They said they met, and there’s no way the Krev wouldn’t recognize their species. Something tells me this is going to be good.”

“Good for who?” Gress spat.

Governor Laisa flicked an ear from the audience, shooting a sidelong glance back in our direction. “Secretary-General Osmani, I think we need to see that next file.”

“I quite agree, if the Consortium knew about the ghost Farsul all along and conveniently couldn’t point out their location on a star map. To me, it sounds like both parties entered some kind of talks,” Earth’s leader responded, eyebrows knitted together.

I shook my head, turning to my companions. “We assumed wrongly about the Consortium with the first file, and found out instead that the Sivkits stopped them from being victims. Let’s not jump to conclusions; I’m trying not to make rash and impulsive judgments these days. I don’t see what the Farsul would have to offer the Consortium.”

Gress’ eyes hardened. “The truth, and the way out. A fictitious monster is as good as a real one, just like it was a thousand years ago.”

The United Nations’ technicians worked to pull up the next file in our newly recovered data from the extremists’ Archives, as I hung on the edge of my seat to learn what transpired at our initial encounter. The ark humans had been confronted by the Krev military, presumably a few years prior to this interaction; I still remembered how that had transpired. Any number of things could be possible. We had been able to conceal our identities, which the Farsul might have done just in case the Sivkits tipped them off.

Also, with us, the Consortium had played nice out of both sympathy for our lives, a desire to avoid open warfare with the Federation, and the hopes of not attracting attention as anything more than run-of-the-mill herbivores. There was no knowledge of the conspiracy’s elimination, or the fact that the ghost Farsul were a rogue sect. The scaly mammals might’ve played along as 100% gentle herd animals to dodge tampering plans. The Krev’s motivations didn’t need to be nefarious just because the Underscales played dirty. Human black ops played dirty.

Still, why had the Consortium never mentioned any of this, especially when we asked them about the ghost Farsul. I coiled my fingers around Gress’ claws, and waited for the definitive answer on whether the KC’s peace treaty could be trusted. Soon enough, the documentation would clarify which of us were right about the Krev’s intent—and the Sapient Coalition would have to decide what to do with this new information.

A/N - 87! We learn that the ancient Sivkits discovered the Krev while the Federation was conquering them, and tried to prevent the Feddies from learning about Avor and giving them an overhaul. Gress remains skeptical of the Consortium’s true intentions, and believes that the talks of a meeting between the ghost Farsul and the Krev are a smoking gun. What do you think happened at this interaction, and which character is right/closer to the truth? How do you feel after learning how easily the Krev could’ve been just like the Sivkits?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting!