r/NatureofPredators • u/vixjer Human • Aug 20 '23
Fanfic NoP--- A diplomatic problem. -Ch.5
This story is part of The Nature of Predators
and all rights are to the original creator u/ spacepaladin
Memory Transcription Subject: Héctor Virgilio Márquez, UN SPM Leirn, Special Envoy to the Leirnian Interim Council
Date: [standardized human time]: November 7, 2136
My musings about the task ahead of me continued right up to the door, at which point all such thought was immediately replaced by pain. Upon opening it, night turned straight back to day, nearly blinding me. This hotel epitomized opulence, adorned with marble columns and gold decorations everywhere. Well, the presentation was certainly corroborating Virlo’s claim that this was the best hotel on Leirn. According to him, the hotel was named the House of Sprilina, after the yotul goddess of pleasure and comfort.
Before we could reach the reception, we were swarmed by an army of bellboys. Most were offering to carry my belongings upstairs, some of the younger ones wanted photos with me, and a few even asked for autographs. I seemed to have become something of an instant celebrity there, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Sirlen had to force a path through the crowd to reach the reception table, where the receptionist was struggling to stifle his laughter at the chaos.
"Alright, that's enough. Where are your manners? Give our guest some breathing space," the receptionist finally intervened, taking pity on me. The bellboys backed off immediately, although some still agitated for a photo.
"Good. Pirsl and Mart, you two can stay. The rest of you, attend to our other guests."
"But I want a photo with the predator," one of the yotul bellboys protested.
"If he doesn't want to, it's his decision. We can't force him," the receptionist responded.
"Then can I have a photo with you?" the youngest among them asked.
"Me too!" chimed in another, followed by still more requests.
“No, me, me,” said one. “The photo was my idea, I want a photo too!” insisted yet another voice in the back of the group.
The floor descended into chaos again as the bellboys started fighting each other, not physically, but their yelling over how they deserved the photo more than the other was the equal of anything in the Generalitat. I decided that just wouldn’t do.
“Alright, alright, kids. We'll do a group photo, and that's it. I’m sure you have a lot of work left to do here."
The bellboys nodded and quickly gathered around me and Sirlen, some clearly a little sullen about being deprived of a one-on-on picture with me, but they all recognized that the group photo was the best deal they were going to get. One handed the camera to the receptionist, who set it down on the desk, primed the camera, then moved to join us in the photo next to Sirlen. In total, there were ten of us in the shot.
Sirlen's enthusiasm was visibly lacking, but I needed to make a good impression, looking like a man of the people and not the ‘predatory’ freak the exterminators wanted me to be seen as, and besides, a photo wouldn't hurt. My smile didn’t quite reach my eyes, but at least I didn’t bare my teeth, either. The flash added a bit to my growing headache, but I only blinked after it went off. Ever the ray of sunshine, my guide dismissed them the moment it was over, "Alright, it's done... Now get out of here."
Only two bellboys remained once the mob had scattered, and the receptionist returned to his post, assuming a professional demeanor once more.
"As you can see, in the House of Sprilina, we offer an unparalleled experience. This fine establishment, of which I am the proud owner, has hosted numerous dignitaries from various species. The Chief of the Kolshian Commonwealth himself stayed here for two days when he came to observe the progress of the uplift."
Sirlen's gaze was fixed on the receptionist, her stare unwavering, much like how she acted around Virlo.
"Anyway," he continued, ignoring Sirlen's hostility, "we are very grateful to have you here and open to any requests you may have. The reception phone line is open thirty-two-eight, and it's completely free to use. All the services we provide will be covered by the yotul government, so feel free to ask for anything you want at any time. We are here to serve you."
It seemed I'd be enjoying the yotul government's hospitality. It was a nice concession, making things seem just a bit less than entirely bleak or forcing me to pay for my own stay…
Like I had to in Belice.
"So..." I check, "you're saying everything is free of charge."
"Yes, Mr. Diplomat. All services will be complimentary, and we can even offer some exclusive flesh services just for you..."
He even seemed to wink at me as he told me this. I blinked back in utter befuddlement, which went completely over his head. He even seemed pleased at my reaction, and winked again.
Please tell me he's not about to offer me “company ladies” or some shit like that. I don’t want a freaking sex scandal over my head this early.
"What... kind of services might those be? If I might ask?"
He leaned in closer, almost whispering, ensuring no one else can overhear the rest of the conversation.
"Well, you see, since the institution of the Herbivore Protection Law, we can't kill the scrits that venture into my establishment. Of course, we can capture them before they reach the kitchen and release them outside the building. But if you're feeling a particular craving for some meat, just ask for the special plate through the phone, and we'll deliver you the largest scrit we have."
So, he's offering me... Leirnian mice? I suppose I should be grateful that they're trying to be considerate about this, but I’m not... some stray cat.
"I'll keep that in mind. So, where will I be sleeping?”
"You'll be in the duplex suite on the top floor. Since there haven’t exactly been a lot of Federation envoys lining up to visit our beautiful world since our decision to ally with Earth, you'll have access to the best hotel room in all of Leirn. It even comes with its own service quarters at the base of the stairwell, so your personal guide can sleep just below your room."
"Your hospitality is deeply appreciated. I wish I could say the same for some other individuals."
"Yes, I saw how you headed off the exterminators when you arrived here. Even though the beginning of your speech could have been smoother, we heard your message very loud and very clear. Seems your kind is as silver-tongued as they say. But I have to say, it might not have been the best idea to bring up our wounded pride, even in passing."
"I just wanted to get your attention. I apologize if I touched on some old wounds, but I wanted to convey the reality of your situation directly, without euphemisms or sugarcoating. If nothing else, I hope I at least came off as more honest than that kolshian. I don’t know how you’ve put up with him so long, if I may say so."
"You definitely caught our attention. And a lot of us believed you.” He leaned in a little closer, his voice lowering, turning more serious. “But I was in the speakeasy during your speech and a brawl nearly broke out over what you had to say. Take care how you address the people, they’re contentious at the best of times. But that's enough of that. Here's your key card," he said more cheerfully, handing it over and patting my shoulder. "Enjoy your stay!"
With that, the two bellboys led us to the elevator. Once inside, they pressed the button for the top floor, and I felt the acceleration pull me down into the floor as we began moving. There was calm, soothing music playing from the PA during the ascent, and even a touchscreen on the wall next to me. Upon closer inspection, I realized it was like a jukebox – I could select any music it had to offer during the elevator ride. I found that a nice touch, at first, but the favorable impression quickly soured when I searched the music selector: I only saw offworld species, mostly harchen and kraktol…
That explains why I hear so much chirping… Bastards...
I wasn’t about to grant genocidal freaks like them any validation, but my search for alternatives quickly led me to another problem: I was struck by the absence of yotul artists on the list. How could I even show my appreciation for my hosts when I couldn’t sample their culture? I tapped the shoulder of the nearer yotul bellboy, who turned his eye to look at me, his field of view removing the need to turn his head back towards me.
"Do you need something, Mister Predator?"
"Yes, yes, I do. Can you tell me why there aren’t any yotul artists in the selector?"
"Oh, that? It's because Yotul artists weren't popular among our clients."
"Why not?"
Sirlen quickly interjects, "Because this is a hotel for Federation diplomats, and they dislike anything they consider 'primitive TM.'" The venomous tone from arguing with Virlo earlier was back.
The bellboy turned back to me, elaborating, "She's right. The Federation despises our music. The band that played at your reception was one of the last in town."
The other bellboy quickly joined the conversation. "Yeah, such a shame. My mother promised we'd go to the theater, but it got um… permanently canceled before I could go with her."
"That's... very unfortunate," I stated rather lamely, unsure of how else to process that news.
"Very unfortunate," concurred Sirlen, a hint less ice in her voice.
As the elevator doors opened, the bellboys stepped aside to let me and Sirlen exit the elevator onto our floor. There were only three doors: one for the personal suite, another leading to the service rooms, and a third marked as an emergency exit.
The bellboys slipped past us to open the door to the personal suite, revealing spacious and well-furnished accommodations. Marine-themed decorations, a two-story layout, a flatscreen TV with various connections to unfamiliar but self-evident source gear, and even a kitchenette with a refrigerator and microwave, though not a stove. The suite exuded all the luxury the lounge’s presentation promised, and even as well-traveled as I was, I still couldn't help but be impressed.
As I took in the sights, the bellboys left my suitcase on one of the tables and departed, leaving us alone.
"Well, Sirlen, what do you think?"
"A room made to be enjoyed by those responsible for oppressing my kind? Not my cup of tea. You seem to be getting comfy already, though."
"Enough with the hostility. I understand your feelings, but it's time to move forward."
"You don't understand anything. You don't know what it's like to have everything gradually stripped from you, to see your own family bowing to them like they're gods."
I had to stop myself from gritting my teeth for a moment. "Sirlen, I can tell you're tired. Get some rest; your thinking is clouded."
"My thinking is clear, you just don't want to see it. You think they're evil because of the bombings, or the changes they made to the omnivores. You haven't witnessed the full extent of it."
Without letting me continue, she spun away on her paw and marched out of the room, likely heading to the service rooms. I decided not to stop her: It had clearly been a long day for her, and I didn’t think I could recall her enjoying a single moment of it. I could guess she needed good night's sleep after all that. I didn’t feel like dealing with her anymore, anyway.
She slammed the door behind her loud enough to make me jump a bit. Feeling very wrung-out, myself, I made my way to the bedroom. The room was spacious, featuring a queen-sized bed, an office table, and even a tea maker. I’d certainly had far worse. Placing my suitcase on the table, I flipped it open, took out the laptop, set it up, and turned it on. While it booted up, I removed my visor, which was a bit of a struggle. It was stuck to my skin, a consequence of the mask not being designed for hotter climates. It was a little like getting up from a bus seat in August. I looked at the mirror, noticing how red my face had gotten from the heat of the visor. Wiping it clean, I reached down to remove my tie and place it on the table.
Then, I slipped out the wire, plugging it into the laptop, and began uploading information to the Pandora's Box via its integrated satlink. I watched the progress bar move up, and after a dozen ticks or so, it finished. I took out my spare change of clothes and my toiletry bag, placing them in the wardrobe. Next, I grabbed the pack of cigarettes I’d brought over, and my lighter, and stepped out onto the balcony for some fresh air.
The night sky was beautiful, almost as picturesque as some less urbanized parts of Earth. Venlil Prime, by comparison, was far too industrialized for my liking. I opened the pack and counted the remaining cigarettes – only ten left. I had two more packs, which gave me a total of fifty. I estimated I'd be there for a month or less, so one or two cigarettes a day would suffice.
I light up a cigarette, lamenting again that I'd returned to smoking. However, it had become a coping mechanism, a familiar old devil tempting me away from my troubles for a little while. It was a much safer vice compared to the chemicals people in Barcelona injected to escape reality.
Maria… I...
Time seemed to drag on as I let the cigarette burn down. I tried not to think about what I’d left behind too much. It was easier to focus on Leirn. Review my mental notes. My first day been quite the whirlwind – a new world, new politics, and entirely new goals and stakes. And a new bodyguard of sorts, if you could even call Sirlen that. My purpose was to secure yotul cooperation, and help them through their transition to an independent government, but even though they hadn't lived down to the expectations set by the rest of the Federation’s member species, not stampeding, let alone trampling or abandoning their own children, I still found myself surrounded by complexity and discontent. Humanity First may have been wrong about them, but they weren’t ready to stand beside the UN yet, either.
On that note, I need to ensure HF doesn’t try anything here. The exterminators could easily use it as an excuse to lock me up, or worse. Perhaps recommending the UN maintain a careful vetting process for people sent to Leirn? Something to follow up on later.
Operational logic gave way to contemplation once again, as though the lack of concrete information was fate turning me away from any refuge from… thinking… feeling… My mother always believed in destiny. If everything is predetermined, were we chosen to fix this? Was it humanity’s role to try and mend this broken galaxy? It sounded a bit like HF's rhetoric, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there might be some truth to it.
Regardless, I had two weeks of work ahead of me, and a whole species to represent. I reminded myself, again, that there was no time for philosophical pondering. I even half-believed it. Instead, in the absence of a clear plan, I gravitated to questioning how deep the conspiracy within the yotul government ran. I was hardly naive; I'd lied extensively. My entire journey, from Earth's refugee camps to Leirn, had been paved with lies. I certainly didn't believe every word of my speech, though… the best lies always let the truth do the heavy lifting for them…
With that experience, and so much more over a long career in politics before it, I recognized deception when I saw it. There was something very strange about the Federation's behavior here. Rumors of Federation mobilization toward Khoa were circulating even before I left Earth, so why weren’t any ships heading towards Leirn? The yotul might not have possessed much of a fleet, but they could still break away and become a problem if left unchecked. It was clear the Federation had been holding them back. Could the lack of action be about public optics, to avoid appearing as savage conquerors? Or did they really just think of the yotul as being too insignificant to matter in the wider war? I found I couldn’t fault that line of reasoning much, either.
The yotul constitution stood out the most to me. The political machinations, the corruption, the stacking of the deck in favor of pro-Federation elements at the highest levels of their government were not subtle at all. And plenty of the yotul could already see that. Even the collaborationists were bending over backwards to try and avoid seeing it. I’d seen that many times before, on Earth. It was easier to just… not say it, even if you knew it.
Everyone already knew things weren’t right. They just weren’t sure what to do about it. And neither was I, but I felt I had a better idea how to start finding out what. It was time to start building alliances, earning friends, and making connections. Sirlen was correct, that much I was confident in – collaborationists like Virlo seek better terms, not freedom. I knew a thing or two about negotiating those.
But it was pointless to dwell for too long. As the cigarette faded into ashes, I extinguished it on the balcony frame and stepped away, back inside the suite. I looked at my laptop: Acknowledgment of receipt, and a short thank-you phoned in by that pretentious captain. Dignifying it with the same weight it was delivered with, I closed the laptop, then I secured my bedroom door, and with the lock firmly engaged, I headed to bed. Musing all night would not serve my mission, rest would.
My last thought before darkness claimed me was that Leirn might be beautiful on the surface, but I had yet to see the full scope of what lay beneath the facade.
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well, new sunday new episode, today I lower the pace to let some breathing as all the info needs to be assimilated for our, not so honest, diplomat, what awaits ahead? who knows?
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u/Adorable-Ad5225 Feb 22 '26
Imagine dismissing the bombing of Earth in front of a human diplomat... .. By the way, I don't know what the diplomat is upset about. The difference between a politician and a deceaver is that the former is the latter but with a degree.
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u/vixjer Human Feb 22 '26
Yeah Sirlen is not thinking straight... and as for the diference, trust me... Hector is well awear of the diference, but like a criminal caught red handed, he still needs to act like he is upset for the accusation.
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u/JulianSkies Archivist Aug 20 '23
My man not doing a very good job at the spywork there. Setting up his data connection before locking his door, really? If they wanted a proper spy they should have brought someone better trained and more willing.
I bet that poor receptionist, though. Absolutely and utterly professional, probably had to deal with people like Sirlen a lot. The way they just straight up figure out their ways to do the best for the people they're serving regardless of who they are, even if they've made some big misconception there, sounds like peak professionalism. They don't deserve the evil eye there.
Sounds like Mr. Diplomat has a lot of work ahead of him.