The Nature of Predators - Kalsim's Sentence (One-Shot #7)

First Half of the Trial 

Memory transcription subject: Captain Kalsim, Krakotl Alliance Command

Date [standardized human time]: January 9, 2137

Day 33 - The Verdict

When Mynek told me the death penalty was a “controversial” issue on human turf, I found that assertion comical. Such claims were an obvious cover-up of the rampant executions that occurred on Earth; social predators that favored a pack mentality must have a harsh punishment system. There was no way their society would function in any capacity, if not.

The “International Criminal Court” had gone back and forth on its stance on the death penalty, at least from the falsified history I’d heard from Mynek. One thing the China and United States tribes agreed on was executing war criminals. I concurred with their thinking. Humans needed a deterrent not to let their instincts take over, or else their entire world would exist as nothing but chaos. The exact results of lacking self-regulation were clear, from their bloody, primitive past; the Federation saw how little they could police their bloodlust without direction.

So the death penalty is allowed today, and Earth is clamoring for my execution. What’s taking so long for deliberations? Ah, the illusion of consideration, of course.

Six herbivore judges would’ve given me hope, since unanimous consensus was a requisite. However, I knew that the humans had rigged the outcome from the start. It wasn’t like a predator judge could understand why I needed to put them and their progeny down. With what I knew at the time, the bombing was the right decision; it was only the hindsight of an available cure that instilled regret. My simple logic was too much for a Terran to get through their hunger-riddled mind.

“You’re going to remain calm, whatever the sentence is, unless you want to be dragged out in chains,” Mynek stated.

I flapped my wings in irritation. “What took them days to deliberate? Your defense was pathetic. We only called two witnesses, and one was an old coworker at the guild with nothing of substance to say. The other was a human geneticist lingering on the Krakotl’s shameful past, even though we’re not that species anymore. We’re cured!”

“Fuck if I know why a verdict wasn’t returned within an hour. Probably some silly prey observer who can understand why you felt justified in killing predators, and won’t hand down the death sentence lightly.”

“Ha! You talk as if the herbivores actually have a free voice. I know they’re controlling you all, directly or indirectly. The Venlil welcomed their occupation; it’s your fault they’re not extinct! Their conquest of the galaxy is off to a swift start, because of you.”

“The more I listen to you, I know you don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. Move it.”

We strolled back into the courtroom, and I took a last look at my surroundings. Thyon was seated on a spectator bench, with handcuffs and guards, while Arjun was lounging with his father further back. As I remembered how compelling their weaponized testimonies were. I could only lament how pitiful my defense was.

Day 26 - Testimonies

When I heard that the Venlil lawyer was calling a predator to the stand, in our defense, I was certain he was throwing the case. The prosecutors seemed surprised by this too, along with the jury; the vicious eyes of the human judges were narrowed with confusion. These were intelligent creatures, so they wouldn’t understand a move so dumb. Mynek must’ve been paid off or forced to botch my defense.

I’d barely been listening to the proceedings until I heard a predator name, announced in calling the next defense witness. Arjun’s betrayal had taught me it was dangerous to think of these things with names, or with animate pronouns. While Terrans possessed emotions, there was only one path that was possible for them to take. Perhaps the human geneticist could admit what was within its species’ DNA.

State your name and occupation. Always ask that useless question; great job, Mynek. Oh, it’s an expert in xenogenetics–an expert of a species that’s been studying aliens for a few months!

This entire trial was a joke, so I decided to approach it with a sense of humor. It was entertaining to watch the predator address the court, folding its hands in front of itself to look professional. A part of me wondered if it had family it cared about, since humanity’s quirk was its ability to bond with each other. Reminding myself of our similarities, I chastised myself not to hate them. It wasn’t their fault that they were a virus, and a rather infectious one at that.

“Would you like to explain to the court what the Federation did to the Krakotl?” Mynek asked this Terran geneticist.

It blinked a few times. “Well, Chief Nikonus admitted that the Krakotl were forcibly ‘cured’ of their omnivory. They were given a choice to submit to reeducation and meat allergies, or their entire species would be wiped out. Under threat of extinction, they surrendered, but they were once scavengers. Their religion was falsified, to reinforce that idea that predators were evil and prevent them from discovering their old lifestyles.”

“What other cultural changes were there?

“Anyone who’s interacted with aliens knows the extent of the dogma; it pervades the heart of their society. Prompting an overblown fear response…the exterminator institutions, which laud killing predators on sight. Kalsim, being an exterminator, would’ve been heavily indoctrinated about predators needing to die. You psychologically have to believe that predators’ suffering doesn’t matter, in order to perform the job.”

“Objection, speculative!” Prosecutor Iglesias barked.

The human presider sighed. “Overruled. The witness may continue.”

The geneticist tilted its head. “It’s unclear at this time which genes were tampered with, but the Krakotl were the first, most heavy-handed victim of the totalitarian Federation. It’s possible that temperaments and brain neurochemistry were also modified, since the Kolshians objected to their ‘aggressivity.’ The education system targets children in their formative years, to this day. Kids don’t question what they’re told.”

“Doctor, do you believe that the gene modifications can be reversed?”

“With enough understanding of how the cure works, yes. But forcing a cure on a species, with the customs they have presently, isn’t ethical. As I said, it’s not all genetic; there’s a tangible, cultural aspect as well.”

“Does that mean that Kalsim, my client, did not have a fair, informed choice?”

“I would say he had a free choice, but that the foundation of his views is a heap of misinformation. The fact is, individuals like Kalsim were pushed along their present path by forces well beyond them. As horrible as the Krakotl’s deeds are, they themselves were victims of this prejudice first. I pity that much.”

“No further questions. Thank you.”

Mynek strolled back to the table, and I rocked on my perch. Why had this predator doctor spoken of “pity” for us? There was a clear agenda in its words nonetheless. It spoke about the cure as if it were a curse, rather than salvation that freed us of our depravity. Understanding clicked in my brain; the humans were horrified by the prospect of losing their bloodlust! It was a negative concept for them, so they projected their desire to wallow in immorality onto us.

The Krakotl weren’t victims for losing the worst parts of us. I regretted that my moronic lawyer allowed a predator to spread those misconceptions on my behalf. Regardless of if it was a gamble to appeal to the Terran judges, who might have their limited empathy triggered by that sense of “loss”, I hated it. Besides, that idiot Mynek had just reminded every herbivore that my species was once desecrated like humanity.

We needed to convince the prey species that I was like them, not draw common ground with the humans. While I wanted to testify on my behalf, Mynek was right; I shouldn’t bother. The predators were intending to execute me from the start, and the six prey races had been alienated with this last stunt. This was an open-and-shut case, without a doubt.

Day 33 - The Verdict

My nerves sprang to life, as the fateful moment I’d be given the ultimate penalty arrived. The twelve members of the judges panel filtered in, with the humans looming behind the herbivores. I clenched my talons around my perch, and waited for the inevitable decree of execution. Mynek hadn’t gone into detail about how predators carried out a death sentence, but I’m certain it was graphic.

The presider surveyed the jury, as an envelope landed in its furless fingers. “Have the judges reached a decision?”

“We have,” the foreperson said.

“Very well. I will now read out the verdict. We, the judges, find the defendant guilty on all counts. A unanimous decision could not be reached on matter of the death penalty, with a final vote of 11 for, one against. In the interest of personal safety, these decisions will be kept in confidence. The defendant is hereby sentenced to life in prison, without the possibility of parole.”

Confusion ruffled my feathers, as I was certain I’d heard the words wrong. Perhaps one of the herbivores had considerable willpower, and decided to spare me. After pondering their situation, they realized the humans couldn’t kill off a panel member without giving up the game. They must’ve understood my imperative, and the flawlessness of my reasoning at the time. I was lucky the extermination guild had supporters on every world.

Mynek’s ears twitched, and I got the impression my lawyer was upset with the verdict. My counsel shouldn’t be hoping for a summary execution for his client! I waited for the predators to grab my chains and escort me out. Instead, I was informed that there would be a brief recess, before victims would have a chance to offer statements. This would be done virtually, with invitations to a select few humans from each bombed city on Earth.

Days of listening to predators cry about how it was unfair to kill them, while they know they threatened galactic stability. This is almost worse than having them rip out my throat and eat me now. Can I make that herbivore holdout flip their vote?

I turned around on my perch, noticing Thyon had moved within hearing range. The Farsul grimaced when I looked at him, clearly off-put by addressing a cured omnivore who’d commanded him. It stung to have his demeanor convey that I was a monster. Such looks should be directed at the actual monsters guarding him; they never strayed far enough to let him breathe on his own.

“It’s good to see you well, Thyon. The head injury was extensive, but you’re back on your feet,” I told the Farsul.

Thyon swallowed. “No thanks to you, stranding me in the forest. I’d have been eaten by worse predators than them, without their intervention.”

“Don’t let them fool you. The humans aren’t pleased with this outcome; it wasn’t what they planned on. Look at those prosecutors, with those scowls and long faces.”

“The people who were supposed to get votes for your execution didn’t succeed. Of course they’re disappointed! It should be obvious now that there was no predestined outcome.”

“Oh, I just wonder who the herbivore judge who foiled their plans was.” Perhaps the Zurulian. She seemed leery of the primates. “Maybe—”

“It was me,” a gravelly voice resonated behind me.

Turning my body with slow movements, I could see a middle-aged male predator hovering beside the table. Its binocular eyes watched me, as a taut grimace crossed its face. Meaty, pale hands tapped the table in a lazy pattern; it was a towering icon of evil. A shudder ran down my spine, and I barely restrained my squawk of alarm.

The lump in my throat grew larger. “W-what?! No, that…that…”

The human judge averted its gaze. “It was me. Sorry to rain on your parade, but the Federation observers all voted against you. None of them understood why I was fighting them. Look, I feel obligated on a personal level to explain my convictions. You should know why.”

“But, that can’t be. You’re a…it doesn’t make sense!” While I cared little for a predator’s motives for its behavior, this proclamation baffled me enough to hear it out. Maybe it was lying, taking credit for an herbivore’s decision to make its race seem magnanimous. “Well then. Go on.”

“While it may provide closure to the countless victims, that shouldn’t factor into our decision of ordering life or death. Ultimately, I don’t feel that you are mentally competent enough to be awarded an execution sentence. Your trauma with predators, and the systemic brainwashing which you were born into, were key factors in your decision making. That being said, you are guilty of the genocide of a billion souls. You deserve to serve your penance, by living out the rest of your days behind bars.”

With that, the predator turned its back and ambled off. I was too floored to generate a reply, astounded that any adult human in its prime could restrain its bloodlust against me. Was this some attempt to show me mercy? I didn’t want Terrans to be the reason for my survival…they couldn’t spare me, when I’d elected not to spare them. Horror chilled my veins, dwelling on that simple truth.

Why didn’t it express sadness over the loss of my flesh-eating identity? Wasn’t that what was supposed to grab the humans’ attention?

Mynek squinted in disbelief. “That’s the people you slaughtered, Kalsim. An objective, kind people who try to understand even their worst enemy, and treat them fairly in turn.”

“Its empathy for its pack is being misapplied. It’s an exception.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. If you were, you’d spout your nonsense with more conviction. Now, for the love of the universe, I am ecstatic to almost have you out of my sight. Have a shit life.”

The world came crashing down around me, with the intensity of an avalanche. How could I reconcile a brutal race like humanity speaking with such reason and civility? It was awe-inspiring that this one restrained its instincts, and even voiced pity for me. I didn’t want their pity. I wanted them to let themselves go, and show why they were a menace to civilized society.

The voice in my head screamed that it was all a ploy; it was a way to rewrite themselves in the Federation’s eyes. “Humanity spares the Krakotl responsible for their genocide” was a wonderful headline. Although, something in the way that judge spoke was convincing enough to suggest it hasn’t issued its decision for that reason. Those had been the measured words of a sapient, and I hated that.

In this moment, I was barely holding out against the onslaught of emotions. Execution would’ve been the true mercy, before my mind succumbed to human deceit. I despised the certainty of a lengthy, unfulfilling life, trapped on the same world as the creatures I had no choice but to eradicate.

A/N - Secret release, happy May! Kalsim's sentence follows up the trial, with a human judge being the reason he escapes the death penalty. Is this the fate you wanted for the dense Krakotl? After what he's done to us, do you expect his worldview to collapse in the (presumably) many years to come?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting! Predator Disease #1 will still be here Sunday.