Memory transcription subject: Governor Tarva of the Venlil Republic

Date [standardized human time]: July 12, 2136

There were two known instances of a predatory species achieving sentience in the galaxy.
The Arxur were the first to be discovered, and, as an anomaly, sparked the Federation’s
curiosity. By previous
hypotheses on intelligence, their existence was impossible. Conventional wisdom stated that
cooperation led
to higher thinking, which in turn, led to the formation of technological societies. A predator’s
natural instinct
for aggression should have limited their evolution.
But it turned out that there was another motivator for technological progress; war. The Arxur
derived pleasure
from killing each other, and in doing so, managed to claw their way to an industrial stage.
Their warfare was
so deadly that we feared they would become extinct before we could study them.
The Federation saw their cruelty, but in our naivety, we thought we could change them. If we
uplifted them,
there would be no logical reason for their destructive ways to persist. Thus, we made our
worst mistake: we
decided to intervene.
It was out of our kindness that we unleashed the galaxy’s worst monsters. We gave
genocidal maniacs the
means to escape their planet, and all but invited them to our doorstep. The Federation was
an easy target to
them, and they set out to claim our territories for themselves. They torched worlds, enslaved
millions, and
bred our children as delicacies. Our pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears; predators had no
sense of compassion
to appeal to, after all.
The Federation rallied together to fend them off, and began the ceaseless war for our
survival. From that
point onward, it was agreed that no predatory species could be allowed to reach the stars.
Their kind were too
great of a threat to the civilized universe.
Little known to the public, scientists discovered a second predatory sapient centuries ago.
Much like the
Arxur, they slaughtered and committed atrocities against their own; it was visible from their
broadcasts. The
Federation voted to exterminate them, before it was too late.
But while we spent decades drafting termination plans, hundreds of nuclear explosions were
detected across
the planet. Our strategists concluded, with a grim sense of relief, that they had wiped
themselves out. The
species was forgotten, mentioned only as an asterisk to the Arxur’s unique predator status.
Yet now, my advisors were digging every record of these predators off of the internet. There
was a vessel
inbound for our world, with a subspace trail pointing back to the planet Earth.
“Governor Tarva.” My military advisor, Kam, was growing more impatient by the minute. It
was obvious that
he wanted to be cleared for action. “Please, I beg you. We must try to shoot them down.”
“Are you certain we cannot evacuate the planet?” I asked.
Kam sighed. “You know the answer, ma’am. They were within orbital range by the time we
detected them.
It’s already too late.”
I grimaced. Every FTL relay was broadcasting a planetary distress signal, from the moment
we identified the
human ship. It was in vain, of course; it would take hours for our Federation allies to reach
us. By the time
they arrived, our world would be reduced to rubble. At least someone would investigate our
death, and
hopefully, put the pieces together.

Was there any way to stop the coming onslaught? Was enslavement preferable to death? It
was doubtful, but I
didn’t see another way to bargain for my race’s survival. There was nothing else to be done.
To put it simply, we couldn’t divert resources to another army of predators. Our people didn’t
have the
manpower or the spirit. Local forces were depleted from a recent Arxur incursion, which was
thwarted by the
slimmest of margins. The humans caught us at a time of maximum vulnerability; there was
no chance to fight
or flee.
As difficult as it was to surrender our home, it was the only option.
“Yes... I know. Send out an emergency alert. Get the civilians to bomb shelters immediately.”
I stared at my
paws, cursing the day I chose to run for office. “Contact the incoming ship. I—I will
personally offer our
unconditional surrender.”
“Surrender? Without firing a single shot?!” the advisor growled.
“Perhaps they’ll be kinder than the Arxur. My hope is they’ll spare the children.” The video
tapes of our
children, lined up in front of the gray reptilians and shot by a mass grave, rolled in my mind.
It was their way
of taunting us. “At worst, we can buy some time. But if we fight, they’ll kill us all.”
I swiveled my chair away from the advisor, signaling that the discussion was over. An aide
propped a camera
in front of me, and with a swish of my tail, I showed that I was ready. Fear swelled in my
throat as we hailed
the vessel on all frequencies. Would these creatures even answer? Predators didn’t talk to
prey, except to toy
with them. Perhaps they would pick up, just to laugh at our desperation and weakness.
To my surprise, the inbound ship accepted our transmission. A brown-skinned being
appeared on screen,
sitting in some sort of pilot’s chair. The words of our surrender were almost to my lips when
its forward-
facing eyes locked with mine. To my horror, it bared its teeth in a vicious snarl. Its sharp,
hungry stare halted

my thought process, sending my instincts into a primal cascade.

This thing was feral! The hostility was unmistakable in its expression. It uttered a few words
in a guttural
dialect, which I assumed was an announcement of our impending doom.
The translator tingled by my ear, pressing the meaning into my mind. I took a shaky breath,
certain the
machine was wrong.
Hello. We come in peace, on behalf of the human race.
I stared at it, lost for words. “Peace? What?”
The translator spit out my question in the guttural language.
The predator closed its maw, tilting its head. “Did that translate wrong? You know, peace?
Friendship?”
“Yes...I know what peace means,” I stammered. “Why would you want that?”
“Why would you not?” It seemed almost taken aback. “My people have looked to the stars
for a long time
and wondered if there was anyone else out there. I’m happy to have an answer, and to know
we’re not alone.”
“You speak of peace, but you can’t keep the snarl off your face, predator!” Kam interjected.
“What? I don’t...” it trailed off, as though something occurred to it. “You mean the ‘smile’,
don’t you? I am
so sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you, really.”

“Smile? What does that word mean?” I asked hesitantly.

“Er, it’s how humans show happiness and good will. Our lips curve up and...” It rubbed its
forehead with a
soft appendage. “Can we start over? I’m Noah. We’re here on a mission of peaceful
exploration.”
Noah really expected us to believe that flashing teeth was meant as a friendly gesture?! No,
this had to be
some sort of twisted game. Predators didn’t do “peaceful exploration.” They trampled
everything in their path
and then burned it for good measure.
At least it wasn’t killing us immediately. What choice did I have but to play along?
So I gazed into those animal eyes, and tried to keep my voice steady. “I’m Governor Tarva.
Welcome to
Venlil Prime.”
“Thanks,” the human said. “I must admit, we were quite surprised to receive your
transmission.”
“Y-you were? Why did you come here, if you didn’t detect us?”
“We’re from a planet called Earth, rich in water and oxygen. One of science’s nagging
questions has been the
origin of life. Our mission was to examine worlds similar to our own, and yours was the
perfect candidate.”
“You suspected we had the conditions for life, then.”
“Well, yes, but every reasonable scientist back home thought our ‘first contact’ would be a
primitive lifeform.
Finding a single-celled organism in your oceans would’ve been a major victory.”
“Why would you care?”
“Um, we were starting to think we were the only instance of life arising. But now, finding a
full-fledged,
technological civilization; it’s wondrous. One that not only spotted us, but seems to
understand what we are
too.”
“You keep using the first person, plural. Who is we?”
“Of course, where are my manners?” Noah pivoted the camera to the side, revealing another
human sitting at
a console. “This is Sara, my co-pilot. She’s logging all of this for our records.”
“That’s right,” she agreed. “I’m not much of a talker. But Noah runs his mouth enough for
both of us,
anyways.”
The captain’s eyebrows shot up. “I do not!”
For a brief moment, watching their playful banter, I saw a kindred intelligence in them. My
logical brain
kicked in a second later, and the illusion dissolved with a cold certainty. Those predators
aren’t searching for
life for ‘science’, I chided myself. They’re bazinga for prey. It’s an interstellar hunting
expedition.
This was the humans’ first realization that other intelligent life existed. All these measured
words were a way
of testing the waters, searching for any signs of weakness. We couldn’t clue them in to the
fact that they were
different. Perhaps if we kept it together, with minimal indications of empathy or fear, they
would leave of
their own accord.
Despite my misgivings, our best bet might be to treat this like an ordinary first contact
situation.
“What would you say to seeing Venlil Prime firsthand? As esteemed guests of the Republic,
of course.”

Noah’s eyes sparkled. “It would be an honor.”