Prisoners of Sol - Derandi Chef (Prologue)

The entire artform of choreographed cooking had been my invention, with Culinary Island in its 24th season and several other spinoff shows getting greenlit over the years. My fine dining restaurants spread the breadth of the globe. As Chef Vanare, I’d gotten to cook for many important people on both Temura and Doros; I was a personal friend of Prime Minister Anpero, often summoned to craft banquet dining for most diplomatic functions. When Larimak attacked our diplomats for speaking with a new species, it’d left us little choice but to cement our alliance with these newcomers.

Humans, they call themselves. I hear they’re sympathetic to the Servitors. Also, it seems Ambassador Jetti has had a psychotic break and come back spouting fairy tales, like something out of the Mighty Bigwings comics.

“Jetti says they see things before they happen, some soothsayers from another dimension,” I told my wife on the phone, as I started the prep work. I wasn’t sure exactly what I’d craft. “That they ripped a space station apart and impaled one of Larimak’s ships. She must tell quite the bedtime stories to Hirri, with an imagination like that.”

My wife, Etra, laughed, but her trill was mixed with confusion. “I’ve met Ambassador Jetti at Anpero’s banquets. She doesn’t have any history of…stories like this. They send her to meet with Redge for good reason: she bounces well off of the Girret leaders. Why would she make such crazy claims? What’s Redge’s story?”

“Larimak cut the Girret off. If they get involved, they’re part of the war too. They don’t know these humans well enough to risk that.”

“But they know us; we have the Alliance. They have to defend us—we split off from those Vascar noble pricks together! Our partnership goes back many years, and they have enough citizens on Temura that there’s a vested interest. Our children go to school with a few dozen Girret pupils. Surely Redge will feel compelled to defend us.”

“He’s an honorable leader, and his reputation is faultless. In all of the times I’ve met him, he always thought of his people first. I don’t blame him for keeping the Girret safe. Maybe Jetti should’ve done the same. These humans aren’t almighty gods, whatever she says. They’re not worth millions of dead citizens: all because these lunatics are trying to protect the rampaging AI that wiped the Vascar out!”

“Darling, I can’t stand AI either. I vote to keep the AI prohibitions in place at every election. The blame is with Larimak’s people for tampering with such risky technology. I understand a little why he doesn’t want someone helping them get out—helping them kill his people, all while lifting their restrictions. I don’t think you should’ve agreed to this.”

I swallowed, dicing vegetables in a soothing rhythm. “Why not?”

“Because the humans don’t sound like good people. They sound…evil. There’s not much stopping them from killing us, with the Servitors as their own private army.”

“All the more reason to keep them pacified then, Etra my love. I always wanted the Vascar to get their homeworld back, in spite of everything. That might be a pipe dream, but we should take care to keep ours. I want our children to grow up on this planet.”

I scooped the vegetables into a massive boiler pot, leaving the line open in a comfortable silence. There was nothing more I could want in the world than my beloved family and the illustrious career following my passion. I remembered working alongside my father at his restaurant, his wings guiding me the first time I held a kitchen knife. His recipes lived on through me, some spruced up and some exactly how I recalled them from my childhood. It was my hope to pass them onto my kids just the same.

There’s no telling what humans like to eat, so Anpero wanted us to offer a wide variety of options: similar to what we’d make for the Girret, spice-safe. This will be a delicate situation, but I always believed that a happy belly soothes the soul.

“Vanare, they’re here! Pull up the livestream,” Etra chirped.”

“On it.” I set my knife down and swapped over to the feed, using a link she texted me. The first one that dismounted was a male, with brown hair and puffy, peachy features; his lips were upcurved in a way that radiated passivity. “Wow. They’re toothless. Very…squishy-looking. Definitely the creatures that wrenched apart a space station.”

My wife gasped, as the last two occupants followed. “Oh no. They brought a Servitor with them.”

A woman with dark, curly hair exited alongside a metallic being that I could only describe as creepy. Its display reflected blue lines at eye level, which I assumed were supposed to represent its gaze; it appeared to fixate wherever it was looking. Its mane somehow looked more artificial than its chassis, rubbery. The female human nudged the Servitor, as it appeared bashful and raised a paw in greeting. It was like a perversion of everything a Vascar was.

“I’ve never seen one of those robots in person,” I managed, searching my brain for a witty comment. “Well. I suppose I won’t have to cook for that thing.” 

Etra chuckled. “Perhaps some motor oil and lithium batteries?”

“I’m not in the habit of changing my menu for monsters.”

Ambassador Jetti ran up to the male human in desperation, roping him into pulling up his shirt to show scars and burns crisscrossing it. The creature grew distraught and booked it for the car, as our diplomat made a desperate move to prove her insane case. If Larimak had done that to the machine-loving fools, I could understand why they took a staunch position against the Vascar. 

Maybe the fact they wanted to negotiate with us was a good sign; that said, the scars proved they weren’t invincible monsters. Jetti distracted the emotional human enough that he tripped before the watching world—the poor guy, having such a debacle in front of so many people! My sympathy for the creature halted in an instant, when his hands went through the concrete like it wasn’t even there. My beak fell open, along with every Derandi witnessing the spectacle, at the impossible power.

I reconsidered Jetti’s story about the humans being dimension hoppers with super-powerful physical abilities; it was clear, at least, that they could destroy anything. It stood to reason that the insane claim of precognitive abilities might be true as well, since one half of the far-fetched tale checked out. My heart sped up with terror, as I realized the horrors I’d be cooking for: abominations that could destroy us and everything we built with ease. 

The Derandi were destined to be the humans’ servants, and if my cooking failed to appease them, I could pay with my life. After all, what could tiny birds like us mean to creatures like that?

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A/N - A prologue that takes place before Vanare actually meets the humans, and shows our Derandi chef’s perspective of their arrival. What do you think of his thoughts on us, before and after knowing what we are, as well as the glimpse of Mikri? Do you think he’ll come around to humanity as being more than abominations, while being on the Space Gate installation?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting!