The Nature of Predators - Bonus Chapter #3

Memory transcription subject: Captain Coth, Arxur Dominion Third Fleet

Date [standardized human time]: October 12, 2136

The new predators were quite interesting, full of peculiarities. It shouldn’t surprise me that humans were radically different from what the Federation captives claimed; those animals lacked the understanding of nuance. For a species that allegedly did nothing but war, they asked a lot of questions about peace.

I wondered what lies their Venlil ‘friends’ had been feeding them about us, but that was a point of intrigue in itself. Several prey personnel boarded to view the Arxur prisoners, and you’d think they didn’t realize humans were predators. They showed ostensible fear from my mere presence, which was unsurprising. But the strange thing was they instinctively lunged behind the Terrans.

Why did the Venlil not hate the primates? Looking to someone for protection implied trust in their benevolent intent. I didn’t think it was possible for Federation animals to feel anything even neutral toward predators.

The Terrans must not value strength either, if they brought those laughable creatures into their pack so easily. I don’t understand any of this.

Interrogator Ross arrived at the usual hour, bearing a platter of meats. I was more well-fed under human custody than I’d ever been in my life. This was what it felt like to have a full belly, without hunger clouding my thoughts. Granted, Terran food wasn’t on par with Thafki flesh, dissolving into my mouth with zesty tang…but the steady meat source could be interesting to the Arxur.

“You have questions for me,” the human decided, seeing my inquisitive stare. “Can’t promise I’ll answer them, but ask away.”

I stared at him with humor. “Have you ever thought to sample the flavor of your Venlil pals? You must be a little curious.”

Disgust flashed in his pupils momentarily, though he tried to conceal it. I pretended not to notice the subtle cues when our cattle practices were brought up, but it told me a key piece of information. Humanity applied the taboo of cannibalism to any ‘sapients’, even if those creatures were not their own kind or caliber. Fascinating.

“No, that’s…not on my mind at all. I’m quite content with a juicy steak,” Ross answered.

Something told me that his species at large wasn’t fond of us, based on what they learned from the Federation. I was certain humans would come around, as the prey continued to crusade against their existence. That said, there were some suspicious elements around Terran behavior; namely their reaction to the aforementioned taboo.

I slapped my scaly tail on the ground. “I’ve never actually seen you eat flesh, human. I hope you’re not just forest creatures with those eyes and some actual nerve. That would be incredibly disappointing.”

“We’re predators, Coth…though, the eyes were originally for arboreal purposes.” The interrogator shoved his feeble hands into pockets in his cloth armor. “You think we came up with all this meat just for you?”

“Sample the product, or I will stop cooperating,” I growled. “There’s no way to know you’re not poisoning me, especially given who your friends are.”

The primate studied the meat cache for a long time, and my eyes narrowed in suspicion. Why was he so hesitant to eat what they were feeding to me? Something was off about all of this. If I had fallen for the clever deception of a nut-munching tree-swinger with some territorial gumption…

If they’re prey animals, that explains why the Venlil accept humans. In that case, we’re still alone in this star-forsaken universe.

Even if that was the truth, I suppose they were still the most interesting aliens to interact with. They possessed genuine understanding of biology, unlike the Federation morons. Ross knew what an obligate carnivore was, and which pack lingo would paint them as predators.

The humans also didn’t gun us down when we surrendered, and were willing to bloody their hands to feed us. It was impressive if prey had attained this quantity of meat this quickly. Not to mention, they had shown themselves worthy military opponents. Witnessing their attacking finesse, I assumed they had to be hunters.

“I see. You can’t eat meat, or you’re unwilling to.” My nostrils flared in a disbelieving snort. “Well played, herbivore, the depth perception asterisk…you fooled me.”

“That’s not the issue,” the interrogator hissed.

The human pressed a hand to his ear, waiting for confirmation from his boss. His forward-facing eyes locked with mine, searching my expression. Another Terran wheeled a charcoal-covered stand into the room, and placed a utensil into Ross’s hand. The dark-haired ape brought a burner to life, wordlessly sliding a flesh slab onto the metal.

I bared my teeth in a threatening display. “What are you doing?”

“Humans can’t eat meat raw without getting sick, er, mostly. We have to cook it,” he muttered.

“Cook…does that mean ‘set on fire’? That has to eliminate the nutrients and caloric value. Why would you ruin a perfectly good meal?!”

“It breaks down the proteins so we can digest it with less energy expenditure. Kills bacteria. Also, look at our jaws. Do we look like we have the strength to chew flesh?”

Ross spoke as though this were a foregone conclusion, oblivious to how peculiar their processing was. I’d never heard of any predator engaging in such practices. This was something undocumented in nature.

He was right on the teeth subject though. Their canines were hardly even curved, and those flat molars weren’t a factor of intimidation. By comparison, our powerful jaws could saw through bone and hides with a single crunch. Maybe this behavior was indicative of an extremely frail predator.

My gaze tracked his loose movements. “I would appreciate if you could not set the room on fire, while I’m chained to the wall.”

“I know what I’m doing. Not my first rodeo,” he chuckled.

The Terran finished scorching one end of the slab, then flipped it onto its other side. He pressed it down against the flaming stand, and his eyes dilated as it began to sizzle. To me, it bore the scent of smoke, rather than anything edible or appetizing. How was the human even going to keep any blood on his plate?

Ross hummed to himself. “I like steak plenty, like I said, but I’d rather eat it with something to compliment it. Hope you don’t mind.”

As the meat reached a temperature he found satisfactory, the tree-dweller slid it onto the plate. He hurried out of the room, retrieving some supplies. The fact they had the ‘cooking’ device ready either meant humans were expecting me to ask about their diet, or their kitchen was nearby.

My eyes bulged as I saw the human wielding some greens, a processed grain product, and something yellow. It didn’t seem too different from livestock feed to me. Ross draped the yellow slice across the meat, and it began to soften from the warmth. He then nestled the meat between the dry, tasteless grains. To add insult to injury, he put something that was herbivore green on the ‘steak.’

The human grasped the monstrosity in his hands, and chowed down on it. His lips curved up as he chewed; those binocular eyes shone with mirth. He swallowed one bite, and went to the next without comment.

That settled whether his species was accustomed to meat consumption. The Federation would’ve puked at the notion. The mixing of plants and meat was a travesty though.

“You’re omnivores. Gross.” The thought of munching on grass like prey made me retch. “So you’ve tasted flesh, and you settle for leaves and roots?”

Ross bared his blunt teeth. “You haven’t experienced the wonders of plant sauces, spices, and side dishes. We like a little crispness and variety with our catch. It’s not just ‘leaves’!”

Another solution to the Venlil question crossed my mind. Listening to the weaker predator rave about vegetation, it occurred to me that humans could have posed as plant-eaters. They had a paw in both worlds, so they wouldn’t starve. They had a choice to only indulge in seed-borne items in the Venlil’s presence.

Granted, being an omnivore doesn’t actually prove they hunt. But the Federation say anything that thinks about eating meat is a predator.

My eyes dialed in on his throat, as he finished his meal. “No wonder you can see the prey as equals! You’re closer to them than I thought. Would I be wrong in guessing humans eat more plants than meat?”

“Eh, not wrong at all. Our diet is diverse, and we’re no ordinary predators.” The human sucked the grease off his berry-picking fingers, then showed me his empty palm. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“No, it shouldn’t be. We hoped to meet someone who was like us. Who understood us. But you’re predators, and the only actual alien intelligence I’ve encountered.”

“You think we’re not similar enough to understand you.”

It was a statement rather than a question, but I could sense Ross trying to pry the insult out of me. I snapped my head to the side in a quick motion. My jaws latched onto a cut of meat, about the size of the one he charred. I devoured the entire thing in a single bite, and licked my lips for emphasis.

The interrogator rolled his eyes. “Now you’re just showing off. You know, our doctors say it’s quite important to chew your food properly.”

“For you, with an omnivore’s stomach acid,” I said. “Your form is weak. You have no natural weapons.”

“Well, claws are irrelevant when you have guns that blast someone’s skull open.”

“Those aren’t natural weapons.”

“That’s not how we see it. Intelligence, cunning; that is the greatest weapon of all. We’re limited by what we can create with our…dainty little hands.”

The human grinned at his own quip, and I mirrored his expression. The Arxur Dominion could develop a kinship with the primates, given sufficient time. I didn’t surmise that their physical weakness would lessen their value as an ally. If anything, it might steer their minds down more devious aisles.

I like these omnis. They have spirit, artful violence, and share our drive to dominate.

The idea of a predator to mold into a warrior culture, and to undertake our hunts with, was appealing. The humans would tire of the Venlil soon; that pack-nature ‘honor’ could only tie them to a liability for so long. The two of us could stand on the ashes of the Federation, united.

It was an unparalleled chance to open relations with another planet. This was a species we could spar, share boasts, and reminisce about battles with. We could learn the quirks of each other’s culture, in the name of brotherhood and science.

There were still so many questions that Ross raised, just from his presence. Why did he wear armor all the time? We only wore chestplates for ceremonial occasions. They were a relic of our sword-fighting days, rendered obsolete by bullets. His cloth garb didn't seem protective, anyways.

How did their politics operate, and how many nations did they have? I wondered if they’d waged ideological wars similar to us. Perhaps there were human leaders that touted ideas similar to Betterment, who hated the Venlil and other societal burdens.

“I have many questions still, but I’ll settle on one. Do you think you understand us?” I asked.

The human’s lips curved up, with a hint of sadness. “Understand? Sure.”

“You say it like there’s an issue.”

“Understanding is exactly where the problem lies. We realize how easily we could’ve been you.”

A/N - By popular demand, here's an Arxur POV for our third bonus chapter. Hope you guys enjoyed witnessing humans from their perspective.

Thank you for your continuing support, and happy October!