This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/SpacePaladin15 on 2024-09-07 15:09:11+00:00.

First | Prev

Krakotl Child Soldier | Patreon | Subreddit | Discord | Paperback | NOP2 Species Lore

Memory Transcription Subject: Taylor Trench, Human Colonist

Date [standardized human time]: December 23, 2160

The stupid bird sat outside my prison cell, playing solitaire—a human game—from what I could see through the window. The bed and the smart-television were lavish comforts compared to what a predator would’ve gotten under prey species’ watch; they’d stripped the clothes off the back of the first Terran prisoner they obtained, and only given him unclean water from a pail. They beat him to a pulp for smiling that his Venlil friend was alright. Despite having suitable accommodations, I hadn’t slept a wink between my mind racing, and wondering what Gress was going through. One thought roared around my brain like a tempest: if my people had survived, was it possible my parents had pulled through? What would they even think of me, and how could they defend why they sent me off alone?

Alone. While they were happy and content on Earth, and forgot all about our little expedition. It should bring me a relief to know our home planet was still out there, with everything we’d done to preserve our culture, yet all I could think was how unrecognizable Terran society would be now. My life had been wasted; my suffering was meaningless. All of those mornings brushing my teeth, and hating the binocular eyes that stared back from my reflection—a waste. The mirror in this cell was still my enemy, showing that I was right to hide my face beneath the mask; it was the visage of a monster, after all. I’d forced Radai to pull the trigger on the Sivkit ships, which incited this whole war. I encouraged the Consortium to go after the Federation out of hatred, without thinking at all. My people could’ve been reunited with our home sooner. 

The only thing that mattered to you was protecting Gress: the one person who ever loved you, despite how little you deserve it. Instead, you just put him in danger by chasing revenge, because you’re violent, angry, and short-sighted. Earth was lucky to be rid of you.

While I’d once thought the universe was denying my species any solace or joy, I now knew that it was me as an individual whose lot was misery. I hurtled a chair across the room, right as the door swung open. Cala hopped back, barely holding onto a tray she was balancing. The Krakotl stared at me for a long moment, noticing the sweat soaking my hair and the veins popping from my reddened skin. How I wanted to wrap my hands around her throat and throttle her. Despite the fact I wasn’t the least bit hungry, my mouth watered as I smelled greasy bacon, and saw pancakes steeped in maple syrup. The wealth of food they took for granted back on Earth, available on every street corner; I hoped the bird wasn’t bringing me tofurky shit. That would be a tease, after how long it’d been since I had a nice, home-cooked breakfast. I lived on granola and meal squares.

“I guess the way to a predator’s heart is through food,” I grunted, wolfing down a bacon strip. The salty flavor was so incredible, I almost sank to my knees with a satisfied shudder. “I wonder what restaurants are like on Earth now, with those frail herbivore sensibilities. I don’t remember what it was like then, and I’ve got even less clue how it is today. Not like a bird would know.”

The Krakotl squawked in protest. “I live on Earth.”

“What, for boot camp? You disgrace the UN logo; they shouldn’t let you wear—”

“I’ve lived on Earth for over two decades, and joined the Peacekeepers thirteen years ago. I’m a British citizen.”

I snorted with derision, a wicked smile crossing my lips. “That’s fucking great! You moved right on in to my planet, while I was forced to leave it at nine years old. What were you doing at the time of the battle: playing Polly wanna cracker?”

“No. I was part of the extermination fleet, Taylor. That’s why I ended up on Earth.”

“The fuck did you just say?” The fork and knife clattered out of my hand, as I no longer cared whether the pancake would grow soggy. “How dare you come in here? You’re worthless, despicable—you stole EVERYTHING! Slaughtering us all like vermin, and you think you could ever make nice with—”

“I was eight years old. My parents stuck me in the extermination fleet. I have nightmares about what those Krakotl did, and what I did. I just pressed the buttons they told me to, which resulted in so many stupid fucking deaths! I was younger than you were leaving Earth, when they had me dropping bombs on predators.”

“You dropped the fucking bombs, yourself?” My fist clenched tighter, as a tension headache formed a band around my skull. This thing helped genocide my species, proving the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. “Eight years old, and already a murderer? The Krakotl send literal kids on a field trip to wipe us out. And your whole little beef jerky stunt, chomping on meat, is trying to prove what: that you’re a predator yourself now?”

“We ourselves were omnivores just like you! The Federation, in their infinite wisdom, cured us. The guilt I feel, now that I understand my part in Terran suffering? That’s why I’m a Peacekeeper. Maybe I’ll make up for it, and be better than those fuckwits. Maybe I’ll die, like I should have for what I’ve done.”

“Then you agree that you’re unworthy of breathing Earth—or any planet’s—oxygen?”

“I am unworthy of your species’ kindness and compassion. I won’t resist if you think I deserve execution here and now, but the idea was to give my life for a cause, in the service of humanity; to save a few lives for all I’ve taken. There’s no good deed that can eclipse what I’ve done, yet I must try. Let me do something worthwhile, for you and for Tellus.”

I scowled at the bird, feeling a coldness in my heart a thousand times deeper than what I’d held against the Krev; this was the face of the people responsible for everything wrong with my life. My fingers curled around the knife. Despite knowing it was a dull blade, it was the nearest cutting instrument in reach. Cala being in the extermination fleet would’ve been like if my people sent nine-year-old me to defend Earth, which was a laughable prospect—an elementary school child in the military was beneath even us predators’ standards. It was bizarre to think that was acceptable to them, but I knew I would’ve questioned it if my parents told me to drop bombs on a planet! Also, I didn’t really care to learn that the Federation “cured” the Krakotl, since they had to be a monstrous species to slaughter us without mercy. 

What did slap me in the face was how the blue-feathered murderer spoke. Trying to atone for bloodshed she caused, with guilt that could never be undone: I related to that rationale. It was the same reason I had joined the military, to serve humanity in the wake of the drilling accident I incited. That crushing sense of responsibility had never truly left me. However, my volatility made me a liability as a soldier, which was why I’d been forced to realize there were other ways to aid my species. Being a better person meant reflecting on the flaws that had landed me in that spot in the first place. The Federation were the original villains, if I set my emotions aside; they dumbed down the other species on purpose. The exterminators’ “kill all predators” theme song started and ended with them. If there was peace with the ugly birds, I wasn’t going to ruin it again.

Assuming this…Krakotl is truly capable of feeling guilt, and isn’t just mimicking my own expression of that from reading my transcript, I might be able to get a message through to Gress. He’s all I have. This isn’t his first time getting captured by humans, away from his home and daughter, but these ones have a lot more power; he must be frightened. As much as a Krev is capable of fearing a furless primate…

I turned the knife to saw off a piece of the pancake, popping it into my mouth with the other utensil. “I’d like to see your fucking transcripts. Whatever grand mentality went through our killers’ heads—that oughta be something.”

“I have nothing to hide, if it’ll make you feel better. I’ll pick out enough for you to get the gist of where I’ve been,” Cala sighed. “How are the pancakes? I made the type from your home country, not the thin sort my human Papa would make and fold up in triangles. I know you Yanks prefer the artery-clogging edition.”

“Do I look like I’ve been eating any processed foods?!” I protested, through a full mouth. 

“I saw the bag of…obor treats in the lounge, and no obor.”

“That’s berries and sugar: it’s not that processed. And that was a recent addition to my diet. It reminds me of something I faintly remember from Earth…riding in a shopping cart with Mom through the bakery section of the grocery store, and sometimes, she’d let me pick out a cookie.” My eyes watered, remembering the faint memories of a childhood I’d had. I wouldn’t know my family if I saw them; they might as well be strangers. I remembered the fuck…

Content cut off. Read original on https://old.reddit.com/r/HFY/comments/1fb93ht/the_nature_of_predators_269/