The Nature of Predators - Gress’ First Encounter

Memory Transcription Subject: Gress, Krev Rent Collector

Date [standardized human time]: March 16, 2160

Standing across from the masked biped, I had felt nothing but disdain. It figured that a being from Federation space would show no respect or common courtesy to us, but I’d tried to meet Taylor Trench in the middle: more than I should, and much more than he deserved. The fact that set off alarm bells in my head was that they needed to stage their underground dwellings to mesh with their story. It was apparent that the garments obscuring their features were in the name of secrecy. Did we know one thing that was legitimate about them? I hated myself for feeling sympathy over the drilling incident, even if it was my opening to finally accomplish my mission.

When Delegate Riccin himself called, imploring me to come out of retirement, I knew that I needed to get back into the field. I hadn’t exactly landed on my feet after the incident…a day that would haunt me for the rest of my life. My government shouldn’t see me as a hero, so I almost felt like I deserved this shitty posting that nobody wanted. In my opinion, a squad of Resket soldiers flushing them out would be more suited than a negotiator. There would be no faster methodology of having them gone, for good. Taylor’s words dripped with sugar, but I could hear the falsehoods leaching through them.

Evict them and be done with it. That’s what the Consortium wants, and that’s what gets you to go home; you’ve paid your dues enough, hoofing it out to Tellus for all of these years. That’s penance to a guilty conscience.

As soon as I turned my back on the human, I was brained over the head; it was like a thunderclap against my skull, shutting the lights out with the flick of a switch. Peaceful prey…peaceful prey, I scoffed in my head, with the last embers of consciousness. Avor would never know what happened to me if I was executed on this hovel. Would they burn me alive for my predator-like heresy? Would Lecca find out her father died via me being turned into a crisp, and my remains being genetically identified by a Resket raider party that came for vengeance?

I awoke on a rough surface, feeling a dull ache in my head. It was as if no time at all had passed, teleporting me into the underground. This was an opportunity, on one paw, since this must be in their hidden cavern residence. However, I recognized that I was at their mercy, in a vulnerable position, after I just demanded for them to be evicted. Holding me was the only way Avor didn’t find out about the eviction notice; it kept them on Tellus, and clinging to our world with their greedy mitts was all they wanted.

Bargain with them. Tell them what they want to hear, and you can figure out the rest later. You just need to get out of here, and say anything to get off this fucking planet.

“Hey, um, I can see that tempers flared.” More words tumbled from my mouth after that sentence, though I wasn’t even cognizant of what I was saying. I was falling back on training, reminding them that this wasn’t necessary—trying to bargain for a better outcome in the name of the greater good. The humans had to see a way out, and I couldn’t let my own rising fear affect me. This was the nightmare scenario though, being beholden to the Feds. “I have a child back home, who needs me in her life.”

Those last few words were purposefully stated, as I thought about my little angel. I could see the way her claws moved in time with the talkey chords, up on the stage twirling and prancing around. Lecca had the brightest eyes in the galaxy, glowing and warming my heart even more than Juvre could. Juvre. What would happen to Juvre if these monsters found a way onto my ship, capturing my sweet primate like he was some predator? I couldn’t bear the thought of an exterminator’s end befalling him. I wasn’t sure if that was worse than him slowly starving to death because I never came back…why didn’t I leave him on Avor, with Lecca, instead of taking him to this shithole?

“You try to pull on our heartstrings, when you couldn’t show any empathy for us?” Taylor’s voice was a snarl, and a coldness gripped my heart. This fake-as-shit “diplomat” had assaulted me while I was defenseless, after it was his own inability to be forthcoming that caused me to turn on him! Why would I ever stick my neck out for a person of his caliber: an exploitative Fed taking as much as possible with a deranged ideology?

His comrades implored him to silence himself, and offered tepid apologies, but I could feel my own rage stirring up. How many hostages had I needed to save from situations such as this, for whatever reasons? I wasn’t going to be afraid like most were; I was going to take charge of my fate, and face the end with dignity. The Federation weren’t going to cause me to live in fear for my dying moments, because while I wasn’t ready to die, I wasn’t keen on spending another second negotiating with these people. There had been twenty-three fucking years of negotiation! That was enough!

“It’s what he really thinks, isn’t it? Let him say what’s on his mind.” My voice had calmed to an icy intonation, goading Taylor Trench into victimizing himself further. He was not the victim. He was an intruder in Consortium territory, and they should’ve never been allowed to land out of our empathy in the first place! At least this was something authentic, though I still couldn’t picture what side-facing eyes freakazoid existed beneath the mask. 

“I think dozens of people wouldn’t have been hurt or killed, if you hadn’t pushed us…” I stopped listening to his scathing reply after that, not caring for his narrative spin. Really, it hadn’t been my desire for anyone to get hurt, so it might be common sense to express that much.

I tried to level out my voice and push back the searing rage pumping through my blood, but my head didn’t feel screwed on all the way; perhaps it was the hard reset, or the wild emotions. Either way, I knew that I had fucked up when the words “people like you” tumbled on of my mouth. Something drastic changed in the Tellus settlers’ body language, because I had all but told them that I knew who they were. The strangest part was that they seemed to take a subconscious step back, as if they were afraid. Why were they so afraid of us learning what they were? What was the point of all this secrecy and deceit—keeping us as far away as sapiently possible?

All of the humans began assailing me with demands to elaborate on that point; they’d zeroed in on that one slip of the tongue, forgetting about all else, no matter how much I tried to redirect the conversation. There was a part of me that really wanted to unload on them, pouring out years of grievances; they’d been wasting my life on a job that was meaningless and undesirable, taking me away from my home and my family. It’d dragged me back into a spotlight that I didn’t want, for all of the political debates that raged about their presence.

“I mean that you people are fucking crazy!” I screeched, finally losing my temper. Oh how I wanted this to end so badly; how I wished I’d never had the displeasure of meeting them, or how I could whisk back home and never speak to them again. I despised these thieves at the core of my being, like any other criminal that acted so opportunistically. “We saw where your subspace trail came from. Don’t you have enough space in the Federation? You have to come and take what’s ours? All we wanted was to stay away from you!”

“I beg your pardon?” A masked human I hadn’t seen before spoke in a confused tone, the hostility seeping out of his voice. Even Taylor’s stance had become less aggressive, his large skull tilting to the side. “You don’t like us, because you think we’re from the Federation?”

Disbelief. That’s the emotion they’re all expressing—of course, they don’t know what’s wrong with their delusions. Well, I’ve already committed, so why not give them a piece of my mind.

Pure stream of consciousness took over, showing that the years of negotiation rhetoric hadn’t left a hold on me; I wasn’t willing to stop myself from losing my temper just as Taylor Trench had. Years of resentment didn’t go down that easily. The Federation were a blight on society, and maybe, just maybe if someone questioned it, they’d wake up to the fact that they weren’t wanted here. I heard a lot of phrases tumble from my lips, hurling them in their faces; they merely stood there and took the dismantling of their core ideology. 

“Delusional corner of space.” 

“Unscientific brainrot.” 

“Overpopulated herd…leave us the fuck alone.”

I couldn’t stop myself, once I got rolling; it was like a train which started off down the tunnel from the orbital rings, too caught up in its own gravity. My mouth flapped of its own accord, lobbing blistering criticisms at them in quick succession. There were no traces of anger from the Tellus settlers. It almost seemed like my outburst had calmed them, though I thought I heard gasps when I stated the obvious fact of zoology: that real herbivores ate meat from time to time. Lumping myself in with that was a fatal mistake, and if I were thinking at all, I’d know that. I realized it as soon as I’d said it, that I was going to meet that exterminator’s end now…because that was all it took to make me a “predator.”

“We’re not with the Federation,” Taylor Trench said, after a silence that felt heavier than a sinking stone. “We’re running away from them.”

They’re…they’re what? Did someone in that section of space see the craziness for what it was? When we observed them, it seemed like everyone there went along with it. Maybe they came here to get away with them…but why wouldn’t they just tell us that? Do I even believe someone who’s lied to my face and refused to share a thing with me for years?

The mayor seemed panicked to shut Taylor down, as soon as he said those words, which tipped me off that he’d said something he wasn’t supposed to. Why was Hathaway so determined to silence him, terrified at handing out any information? Surely they knew the Krev weren’t with the Federation. We had our own organization, and we’d trumpeted the word “Consortium” at them at every opportunity. It was my turn to slow my anger train, listening with inquisitive eyes. I didn’t understand the full picture—didn’t understand what drove them—at all. That was taking away from the primary tool of a hostage negotiator, so I needed to figure out what they thought was happening.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, scanning them for any hints to their true thoughts. Their body language was alien, and indeterminable, to me. 

The strange mannerisms continued, as Taylor offered to show his face: the very thing we’d been trying to get them to do for years, the most basic step of interpersonal interaction. However, the human representative had to procure a key from Cherise; he was unable to unlock his own mask even if he wanted to. These were extreme lengths to go to, ensuring that the settlers had no agency to reveal their visages. It was draconian to my eyes, and I wondered what would drive a society to inflict such punishment on their own. Further, Taylor’s manipulators were shaking, along with his chest quivering from ragged breaths. It reminded me of how Juvre acted when he had separation anxiety…

Before I could explore that line of thinking any further, the key had been fitted; the mayor was warring with himself to decide whether to even prevent this unveiling at all. Taylor’s movements were slow, and whatever was causing him to be so jittery, I didn’t dare rush him—lest he change his mind about finally opening up. There was something he said, that the Federation thought that his kind were monsters. A glimmer of understanding tugged at my psyche, imagining what might’ve caused this. Perhaps this was a predator race, something I knew would place them at the heart of persecution. They might’ve been conditioned to think that all aliens had the same mad ideology over meat-eating creatures.

The first bit I saw of Taylor’s face was a smooth chin, furless in all aspects; the skin was the tan color of sand, curving inward toward his lips. By the time I saw the nose, even as it protruded much more than the ones we knew, the nostril shape and facial arrangement told me all I needed. The little rounded ears, coiling with cartilage; the forward-facing eyes so clearly for depth perception being the last item, and the one he seemed the most ashamed of. It was so apparent staring at his gloved manipulators what he was—those were hands! Those digits were so singular, meant for gripping branches. If he had a tail, I would’ve recognized him as a primate in an instant.

Mustering words became near impossible, as love chemicals clouded my judgment. The hatred was gone in a moment, staring at a terrified primate—his lower lip quivered, and I narrowly stopped myself from cooing. Without any further knowledge, Taylor Trench looked like a baby. I hadn’t seen primates this hairless, but it accentuated the chubbiness in his cheeks. His scalp was trimmed away too, though it seemed like hair could grow there. I was still disoriented, but I could feel a force tugging my paw toward the top of his cranium; it looked so perfect for head pats, and it was as smooth as a stone!

“You’re…you’re…” Words, Gress, c’mon. The poor thing seems to look more petrified the longer you fumble for your voice. “Primates. The hands confirm it. How did I not recognize the appendage structure?”

There are real primate people, who are running from the Federation, and we have been persecuting them. How can we live with ourselves? To think we tried to drive away the sapients that we’d want to befriend above all others—and if Taylor hadn’t lost control of that notorious primate temperament, which honestly he’d been doing admirably with that perspective, then we would have lost them. 

I had to know their story, and make the terse relations and unfair demands up to these humans! A treasure like this species must be protected at all costs; the Consortium would only need a single look at this face to decide that. Adorable Taylor was the one that needed to be brought home, paraded in front of Delegates Tower to melt all opposition to human aid. How I wanted to wiggle those puffy cheeks with my claws, or to scratch that spot behind the round ears that Juvre loved! Of course, I wouldn’t demean a sapient being intentionally; the nurture instincts were just out of control, a fierce love borne from first sight.

The mayor lifted his mask, revealing a more chiseled face with rich skin and gray hair; an older primate melted my heart just as much, seeing it as the face of an old friend who’d been loyal throughout life. A wise primate who’d seen many days, and whose silver fur looked so fluffy and pettable! The outline of it stretched onto his chin, minimizing the babyish effect while also acting like a picture frame; I couldn’t look away from his massive eyes.

“You know what primates are?” Hathaway asked, a voice which now warmed my ears. Who couldn’t love the call of obors, or the way he looked so innocent when his mouth parted?

I knew in an instant that I’d make a fool of myself, but I managed to give a reply. “We do. We definitely do.”

After wishing to be far away from Tellus on every trip out here, now I wanted to get to know these humans with sincerity; I would be the one who fought for their cause, whatever it took, and who brought their story to the masses. These colonists had come to our space for a reason, and we had a duty to help them and mend the rift between us. I hoped that this would be the start of our relations turning around, and our two species becoming the best friends I thought were destined to be.

A/N - Gress POV of chapter 11, as written on livestream in the Patron discord vc! I’ve elected not to edit more than a passing glance to catch the most egregious typos; the appeal of live art is that it’s raw and fresh off the page, so I wanted everyone to get that experience. Hope you enjoy this extra (first Krev POV), and you’ll be seeing much more from Gress’ eyes in a few weeks time.

As always, thank you for reading and supporting!