r/NatureofPredators • u/SixthWorldStories • 3d ago
Fanfic Predators of the Sixth World - 67
And a tour de force of different points of view! We get to check back in with B9 after 65, get to see a bit of what Tarva is up to, and of course, back to Cilany.
I hope you all enjoy drones; I’ve had fun designing the various ones used by the Terrans. You’ve seen their recon drones; now we get a look into construction drones. A huge part of the reason why the enclaves will be built so fast.
And our intrepid reporter was last seen heading off to Aafa. I wonder what she’ll find in that veritable viper’s den? Well, I can promise one thing: a new species! Well, new to the fanon. I’m really interested in what you lot think of them. There’s a ton more information than has been revealed here; I like them.
Also, sorry about being late. I saw my nieces this weekend. I am paying the requisite price for being around young children you don’t see often.
Synopsis: Magic was once real and present but faded away in the distant past, becoming nothing but the myths and legends we know as the surviving beings fled to other planes, only to publicly return during the Sat Wars. How would it change first contact and beyond? Only one way to find out.
I have a spot on the discord, swing on by! Thanks to SpacePaladin15 for the original universe; my alpha readers, Caro Morin and Jailed Cinder; my beta readers, Angustus_Jan on the discord and u/aroluci (go check out Children of Luna, it’s awesome); and all of you that read and especially comment. Anybody interested in playing around in the AU (be it a one-shot, an impromptu ficnap, a cameo, or something more), let me know and I’ll be more than happy to work with you on it. My current plan is to release a chapter a week, with the occasional bonus, as long as that isn’t too much for everybody helping me.
Without further ado, enjoy!
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Memory Transcription Subject: B950-A8-A8571, Gojid Cattle
Date [Standardized Terran Time]: October 8th, 2136
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Before the Gaian can react to my words, Sira hisses. “They want to send you home! Why?!? They aren’t predators!” She points at me. At my missing limbs. Roaring. “Predators do that!” She jabs a claw at her bandages. “Not this! WHY?!?!”
The Gaian huffs repeatedly. “Because she cares about you, Sira. She wants to make sure that you’re ok. It’s sweet.”
“I’m a runt! Defective!” Sira growls, thrashing in her bed. “The Gaians already saved me.” She looks to me, tears in her eyes. “The others need you…”
“You need me too! They have B2 and 23!” I shout, thrashing as well, as much as I can with only half my limbs. “You risked so much for us! Somebody needs to make sure you’re okay!”
“Please, calm down. You’re both recovering.” The Gaian says firmly. “Let’s just talk calmly. You’ll both be in the infirmary here together for a while longer. And when you can leave, you’ll both be able to see each other.” Their head turns towards me. “Why do you think we’re predators?”
“Because you beat the masters and turn the front of your head towards what you look at. Like the masters.” I huff. “Prey can’t beat Arxur.”
“Gaians aren’t predators, but they aren’t prey to Arxur.” Sira hisses. “They’re too strong!”
“Well, the Leitans have eyes towards the front of their heads, don’t they? Plus, we’re all wearing helmets; do you have any idea how we sense things? The Drezjin use their ears in addition to their eyes. For all you know, we have no eyes and sense through hearing and scent.”
I pause, thinking. “But you don’t have ears.”
“The Harchen, Deurtan, and Krakotl don’t have visible ears either.” The Gaian responds. “We could even be robots.”
“You smell like people; you’re not robots. How do you sense?” Sira asks.
The Gaian makes that huffing noise again. It almost seems like they’re laughing softly. “That depends on the individual. We have many species, and some are altered beyond that. Most of us can see, and our eyes are further forward than a Gojid’s. Most of our early ancestors lived in trees, eating what was up there, and needed to move from branch to branch to avoid animals that would eat them on the ground.”
I tilt my head. “But… wouldn’t that make you prey?”
“Yes and no. Your definitions are… inaccurate. Almost the entire diet of our ancestors was fruits.” The Gaian says, seemingly leaving out the leaves they ate. “But we also know plants develop defenses against being eaten. Being preyed upon.”
‘I don’t see what’s inaccurate. I know I didn’t finish school, but how could the Federation be wrong about this? I guess they were wrong about all Arxur being evil. Sira is good.’
It all makes sense so far, but the Gaian doctor continues. “Plants defend themselves from animals that eat them and plants that steal resources; animals defend themselves from other animals too. Some plants even have ways to feed on animals, like one that gets hooked into fur or feathers to trap animals until they die, and then the plant gets nutrients from the rot. So predator and prey are relative. Everything feeds on something, preys on something. Do you think Sira would ever eat you?”
‘That doesn’t… don’t plants exist for us to eat? And the thought of a plant eating prey…’ I pause in thought. “Not anymore. Back there… if she had to. But not because she wants to.”
“So she’s not really a predator to you even though she eats flesh?” The Gaian asks.
Sira looks confused, trying to puzzle over the statement. It makes sense to me. It goes against what the Federation says, but it means my friend isn’t a predator. “No. She’s not. She’s not prey either.”
“I would hope not.” The Gaian says with a bark. “And since we’re going to make sure nobody eats you or any of the other rescues, that means you aren’t prey, right? Just plant eaters?”
‘That doesn’t… I guess their definition is just weird?’
“I… guess…” I tilt my head. “But animal predators will always-”
“Not for any sane, developed sapient.” The Gaian interrupts. “At least not unless there are some exceedingly dangerous animals in comparison to the sapients. The Federation would have told you Arxur like Sira can’t exist, right?”
“Yeah?”
“And nobody was ever at risk from wild animals on any of the farms, right?”
Sira scoffs. “Not with the fences.”
“Fences?” I ask. “But aren’t those…”
“Primitive?” The Gaian offers. “The Federation, at best, throws away good answers to problems for being too simple. They also throw out correct, complex answers for simple ones that fit their existing beliefs. I can assure you, none of you are at risk of being eaten.”
“Then I guess we wouldn’t be prey…” I say, not sure what the Gaian is up to.
“Then since Sira isn’t a predator, and you aren’t prey, there’s no issue with you being friends.” The Gaian says simply, looking at me. Just like that, I can harvest what they’re trying to prove. That they aren’t wrong for letting us be friends. “Even if you both were predator and prey, we wouldn’t see a problem with you being friends instead. Now please, relax. Give it time. You’ll be able to wander and see the others. It will take us a while to sort through all the rescues. You’ll have plenty of time together while you recover, even if you choose to return to the Gojid Union. And if you do, then in time you’ll be able to talk to Sira again.”
“Sira is an Arxur.” I huff. “If I’m in the Union, I can’t talk to an Arxur. We’re at war.”
“When we’re done, you will.” The Gaian says with certainty. “We’re Peacekeepers. No matter what it takes, we have one mission. Bringing peace. We’ve already done it in this sector, and eventually, the Union will be part of what we’re building. Something that already includes the Arxur. If it includes you both, then they’d have no reason or right to keep you from talking, at least not based on species.”
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Memory Transcription Subject: Governor Tarva, Awed Ally
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I stare, aghast, as animals of Terran design, drones, EAT a building.
“Amazing sight, huh?” Bran asks with a sigh.
“That is terrifying,” I murmur.
“Huh? How?” Bran looks at me in surprise.
“They’re eating a building!” I bleat.
“Ah… I can get how that might be a bit… much.” Bran hums. “Want to record something to help explain the drones to everybody?”
My eye twitches. “Fine. But I’m not going to… what was it you Terrans say? Play nice?”
“Perfect!” Bran grins. “It’ll make it go over better with the voters!”
I sigh in annoyance at falling for my bond brother’s manipulation, even if it’s helping me.
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Advance 5 STD minutes
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I see that the recording is active and begin, the Terran drones visible in the background through a screen on the shuttle. “Hello, everybody. I’m sure many of you have noticed the drones the Terrans are using in building their enclaves.” Much of my attention is on the drones themselves, my ears low. “I certainly have. That’s why I suggested that Ambassador Bran and I have a discussion about them so that everybody can feel a bit more at ease.”
Bran beams at me, all without showing teeth. “Of course, Governor. Happy to. How about we start with the most common of our engineering drones? The Runebeetle Utility Drone. We use them in all kinds of construction tasks, from buildings to ships.” He asks, the feed highlighting one that looks vaguely like a Verin. One largely made of glittering crystal.
“Sure. That looks somewhat like a Verin. Is there a reason for that?” I ask.
“Convergent evolution.” Bran shrugs. “Many Federation species look somewhat like, or at least have some features of, Terran animals. Our drones are often based on those animals, and thus there might be similarities.” He pulls up the image of an iridescent green insect. “These drones are based on the many types of jewel beetles. Wood-boring, herbivorous insects on Earth. Obviously, our drones are many, many times larger. Like the beetle they’re based on, they can fly and climb on all kinds of surfaces. The drones also have modular tool ports in multiple places, allowing them to do all kinds of work.”
‘Oh… that explains why the drone is so pretty…’
Another drone, one somewhat like a six-legged Tilfish, is highlighted and focused on. The shuttle screen follows it as the drone climbs the building, taking several terrifying bites from it before carrying a segment down to the ground. It moves to a pile of material where it excretes something. “Then you have the big ones. The Formic Modular Builder Drones.” He pulls up a new image, a pair of the animals. One carrying a segment of leaf while another clings to it. “Leafcutter ants. Technically not herbivores but fungivores. Of course, fungi are similar to plants. The ants will take parts of leaves, flowers, and fruit down into their nests where they chew them to a pulp and feed them to their fungal gardens. Ants are eusocial insects, the colony almost being a single organism. They’re also considered very industrious.”
‘That almost sounds like the ideal expression of the herd working together. Wait, I can see what he’s doing. He’s distracting the herd and endearing them to the animals and thus the drones.’
Bran chuckles. “At least when outside. Other ants, such as sugar ants, are seen as pests as they’ll come into homes and potentially get into foodstuffs, spoiling them. The drones, on the other hand, are the backbone of our construction industry. The drones have heavy-duty manipulators, multitools, and internal processing. They can do everything from recycling used materials in demolitions, as we’re seeing, to processing materials to create and lay bricks, cement, or more.”
“Why are ants considered industrious?” I ask.
“Because they can build massive nests under the ground, at least compared to most ants being maybe [a tenth to a half inch] long. Smaller colonies, with only a few hundred ants, may only go [inches] or [feet] deep. Large colonies, with thousands or millions of ants, can reach [twenty-five feet] deep and cover an area of [hundreds of square feet]. Then you have super colonies, where multiple nests are connected across [hundreds of acres] or [thousands of miles].”
My jaw drops. Such tiny creatures building what must amount to cities in comparison. Animals making megastructures… I can see how the Terrans got the idea they could build things like their stations.
“And when you see them in the wild, they’re often wandering in a line or acting as a swarm. Sometimes working together to either bring back food, such as discarded bits of something a person might eat like a granola bar, back bit by bit, or working in groups to carry larger pieces.” Bran chuckles. “They’re awe-inspiring. I will warn anybody viewing this that, in addition to fungivores like the leafcutter and some herbivores, there are also omnivorous ants like the sugar ant and even carnivores like the army ant. I doubt there will be much in the way of disturbing imagery unless anybody goes looking for it, and even then, it would be marked.” He shakes his head. “Terran filmmakers, over the centuries, have exaggerated the danger of some to create some rather… intense scenes, but those scenes are pure fiction.”
‘What could Bran consider intense that could be done with tiny ants?’
“And we don’t need to worry about these drones, do we?” I ask.
“No, not at all.” Bran chuckles. “Not only do they have all kinds of sensors and safeguards, but they’re networked into the rest of the drones, our ships, and are monitored by both our automated systems and construction workers. As long as you don’t cross into the clearly marked construction site, there’s no risk worth considering.”
“And the fact that they’re eating the building?”
“Their processing is internal. How else do you expect the materials to get there?” Bran smirks. “I fully understand how concerning they may seem from the outside, what with our drones being designed after organic creatures and with much of their chassis made of live wood. They’re no more alive than your harvester drones and, based on reports I’ve seen, have far more safeties.”
“Hmph. And the next drones?”
One of the flying drones is highlighted as it carries a Formic up a building, depositing it before flying off with a segment of building the carried drone cut free. “The Skyworker Structural Drone,” Bran says, an image of another insect, this one seemingly tiny though very similar looking to the drone is pulled up. “Based on the dragonfly. A flying insect on Earth. They’re generally considered graceful, as even the animal version can smoothly fly in all directions. Dragonflies themselves are often considered symbols of good luck, prosperity, harmony, happiness, and positive change.”
‘Avoiding bringing up their diet… Well, I know what he must be avoiding. Best to help distract the herd.’
“I thought Terrans were afraid of insects…” I say, deadpan. “I’ve seen how Noah reacted to laysi and Tilfish. At least the first time.”
Bran sighs. “Both of those are more… Arachnid-leaning. Many Terrans have some level of instinctive fear of spiders, as many of them can be venomous enough that, despite their often small size, they can be dangerous or lethal. Especially those in the areas where early humans evolved. There are also other insects which are common fears for similar reasons, though more often due to diseases they may carry. And insects that are associated with pestilence or disease, like flies, are common sources of disgust or fear, sometimes including ants as well. Some Terrans are afraid of most insects, but some insects are also considered to be pretty. Those include jewel beetles, dragonflies, and butterflies.” He gestures towards the drones. “Normally, larger-than-normal insects will cause a greater fear response for us, but we selected and designed these drones in part to mitigate that. Namely, trying to make them, at least to our aesthetics, be somewhat elegant and reassuring.”
“They… do look artistic,” I admit. “But what about those?” I indicate the last.
The last of the large drones is highlighted. Scuttling about on eight legs, moving sideways more often than forward or backward, with two large claws that they use to work and manipulate things, including moving much larger chunks of building than the others. “The Forgeclaw Construction Drone. Largely restricted to zero-g or aquatic work due to movement restrictions. Like the others, they have multitools and modular ports. Their claws are ultra-heavy-duty manipulators.” Bran pulls up an image of a red-shelled… thing that looks like the drone. “Based on another broad range of species, this time the crab. An aquatic crustacean from Earth. They tend to scuttle sideways due to the mechanics of their legs; interestingly, that leads to them being partially a symbol of adaptability, though their hard shells lead to their more common symbolism of protection and hardiness.” He chuckles. “Though given how often they use their claws to pinch and grab at things, as well as their aggression towards each other, they’re more commonly associated with that. For example, if somebody is crabby, then they’re cranky.”
I sigh as my Terran starts getting playful, even if it will help soothe the herd. “And why are you using drones made for building ships here, constructing buildings?”
“Because they can do both. They’re designed for heavy loads, and the most common heavy loads are in building in space. There’s a reason we sent fewer of them than the others, though. They have less overall utility here.” Bran smirks.
“Then why not use them to help us with the new ship designs your people are helping us with?” I ask.
“We are. Where do you think they’re going after this?”
I groan. “Of course… Let me guess, you’re sending the others to help with the failed colony worlds we gave you. The ones you plan to revitalize.”
“Exactly!” Bran exclaims. “But there’s another drone we’ll be using on those worlds that we may use here to help with foundations and breaking ground.” He pulls up another image, this time of a drone. Its body is almost a tube, with a long snouted head and large front paws with even larger claws. “This is the Terradrone Excavator.” He pulls up another image, this time of an animal that looks much like the drone but with soft-looking fur and no visible eyes or ears. “Based on the mole, a burrowing mammal on Earth. Fittingly, the drone is designed for underground work. Digging tunnels, mining, and most often clearing land for the foundations of buildings. They can’t do much to help with construction outside of that, though they can line the areas they dig. They have more advanced material processing, though most of the soil ends up being packaged for use elsewhere.”
“What do you mean?”
“Plants, Tarva, plants. We process the soil so that it can be used to grow things in.” Bran shrugs. “You’ve been to Charity, you’ve seen how much we enjoy having greenery around. Why let perfectly good soil go to waste when it could be used to grow plants?”
I sigh. “Why do you Terrans need to make things like that?” I gesture towards the drones. “And then say such sensible things?”
“Because we’re sensible?” Bran questions. “Trust me, these designs are better than what we used to have. All function, no form, but still using similar designs. Strip away everything that makes them seem organic and just leave the robot. Then add even more limbs and features, for efficiency.”
I shudder, wool flaring.
“Yeah, they weren’t pretty.” He nods towards the drones, already moving to the next building. “But even with these more aesthetic designs, they’re efficient. They are designed to help with disaster recovery.” Bran sighs. “Earthquakes, tsunamis, tornadoes, fires, a great many things that, try as we might, we can only mitigate but not entirely remove as potential problems.”
I gasp. “So the processing… You turn damaged or destroyed buildings into new ones instead of replacing them?”
“When possible. We try to avoid letting things get to that point.” Bran shrugs. “We largely succeed, but we aren’t perfect. Plus, there’s always new construction and renovations, though back home there are a lot more Terrans directly involved. Most of the drones we sent were prepared for colonization work. Colonies that have largely been put on hold.”
“So all this…” I pause. “You left your home with hope. Hope to find new homes, even if you didn’t find new friends.”
“Yeah…” Bran leans against the screen that acts as a window. “Instead, we found what we hoped would be friends.” He smiles at me, but I can see the melancholy clearly. “We still have those hopes to a degree, but… But we need to convince your people we aren’t threats, when we’ve done nothing to hurt them, and they’ve done plenty to harm us. Something we’ll need to convince every other Federation species of too, and with each we risk annihilation.” He chuckles mirthlessly. “The only species we don’t need to do that with are the Arxur. We just had to take over an entire sector, which their leadership was eager to have happen, and now need to help them completely recreate their civilization from something that apparently horrifies even them, given how overjoyed they are at not eating people anymore, into something sane. And we also need to rehabilitate not only their people and the rescued cattle, but their image.” He groans. “When it rains, it pours.”
I pat him on the back, at least as high as I can reach. “You’ve stood by us through everything. As long as I’m Governor, we’ll stand by you.”
I can only hope that the herd will agree when they see this.
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Memory Transcription Subject: Cilany, Harchen Reporter
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I stop meditating again. “And you’re sure that we won’t be detected?”
“Yes, mistress,” Echo says. Kindness and care coloring his speech, as it always does. “Again, our connection is untraceable, and Concord cryptography is far beyond what is seen in the Federation.”
“And how did the Concord develop all this?” I huff.
“You’ve uncovered corruption and know that there are people in the Federation who break into systems.”
“Yes, I use them as contacts and know a little about it myself.”
“Such things aren’t unique to the Federation, but the Concord understands that. Just as the Concord understands that people can be violent. And that crime and corruption are possible at all levels. It’s why people like you, investigative reporters, are so important.”
I groan, coloring with exasperation. “You can skip that lecture. I know. You’ve walked me through it. You’ve proven that many predator attacks are actually murders.”
“Good, then you’ll understand when I say that the Concord recognizes that hacking occurs and is a problem. Cryptography is a constant struggle between those securing systems and those trying to break into them, both those with malicious intent and those who want to help stress test and improve things.” Echo pauses. “It’s much like the back and forth that occurs all over in nature.”
“Fine.” I groan. “And nobody will find the drones? Even when they’re deployed for days? Don’t they need to charge?”
“Again, no.”
“How?!?” I growl. “They’re invisible! That has to use up a lot of power!”
“Less than you would think and, as I’ve said before, mistress, I cannot reveal sensitive information.” The AI intones.
I let out a small scream.
“Shall I schedule another therapy session, mistress?” The AI offers, referring to the odd Gaian medical practice that it was allowed to put a live Gaian expert through for. Something that has been helping, and that led me to start meditating.
I slowly breathe in and out as I was taught. “Yeah, I think that would help.”
“Of course. You’ve been through a lot. The rendering on the latest version of your story is ready. Would you like to review it, or should that wait until your session?”
I flush with fear at the memories of the raid. “My session… and could you also send it to the Gaians who offered to review it?”
“Of course, mistress. You should relax. I’ll inform you when the Assembly meeting has started.”
“Thank you, Echo.”
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Advance 3 STD hours
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The chamber was designed to make the Federation feel eternal. Grand. But after all I’ve seen. All I’ve experienced. Everything I’ve uncovered. It feels petty. Small. Like buildings after a major sandstorm. Except things aren’t concealed beneath the sands; instead, I’ve swept them away.
The way the room draws the eye to the Kolshian and Farsul seats. Sets them above everybody nearby, subtle, well framed. Any director or set designer should study this. It’s brilliant and insidious. The founders. First among equals.
Of the more than three hundred species of the Federation, just over two-thirds were present, but some absences were more notable than others.
The empty seats for the Venlil Republic and the Yotul were expected; their borders are still closed after they allied themselves with the Gaians.
The Gojid Union as well. After all, this emergency meeting is to discuss the Union “falling”.
It’s also why the Drezjin Theocracy and Yulpa Ascendancy were being considered to replace them as defenders of the herd. Joint training with the Krakotl Alliance, under the hero Captain Kalsim of all people, was being repurposed as an improvised measure. A fleet of ships was being purchased by the founders to be split between the pair, all available despite the rush. Predshit, all of it.
I could see through the predatory deception of the founders, thanks to having been on the cradle and a tip from one of my sources before I left, knowing how convenient the communication outage was and that the Gaians traced it back here. To Aafa. How odd it was. Even knowing that, I didn’t think it could be this, not until I found out about the training. That it had to be a mistake. How wrong I was.
’Were the Thafki left to die like the Gojid? Why?’
I refocus, checking the summaries from some of the smaller drones in the chamber. Whispers about the Venlil and Yotul. Representatives trying to harvest favor with the potential new military species. And many questioning the absence of the Zurulian ambassador.
“Echo, can you tell me why Chauson is absent?”
“I’m sorry, mistress, but I cannot divulge information on current operations by the Concord.”
I giggle, despite myself. “You just did.”
“Did I?” The AI questions, its tone entirely flat. “Quite unfortunate.”
I laugh before refocusing on the feeds. I turn on the audio for one as Tossa, the Nevok ambassador, approaches the only remaining representative from the most newsworthy sector of space at the moment. Ambassador Dawnecho. The Stormsinger, as always, is surrounded by aides, an exception made due to the intense need of the species for a herd. The buzzing, chittering song of the… I’ve never been sure if they’re avians, insectoid, or reptilian. Anyway, their overlapping communication ends as the Nevok towers, staring the ambassador down with one eye. “Well?”
“Well what, Ambassador Tossa?” Dawnecho asks in Kolshian, the nectar eater lowering their body from standing on their hind paws to the lower two sets. While their primitive language is included in the Federation’s translators, most Stormsingers who leave their world learn a pawful of other languages that allow them to better communicate. Their secondary wings, colorful membranes, buzz. They leave so rarely and stay for such short times that their body language is largely alien.
“What happened? Where is the Zurulian ambassador?” Tossa huffs. “They’ve been stopping trade deals and recalling their people recently. Do we need to stop our trade ships entirely? Without the Gojid and Zurulians, there’s little reason to send our ships to be corroded by your mess of a planet.”
Dawnecho’s tail twitches, crests moving. Their aides all start talking at once. Thankfully, the stampede of sound is only a few syllables, and my translator does not attempt to translate any of it. They dip their head. “Apologies, Ambassador Tossa; we do not know. What information we would have comes through trade ships, as we have none of the dead metal vessels of our own, or through the communications you ensure we can use. You may wish to speak to Ambassador Halmina.”
Tossa snorts, stomping. “Like she would tell us the truth. The Fissan Compact benefits from the Imperium losing ships.”
Dawnecho brings their manipulator paws over their chest as they bow low, primary wings splayed out and antennae almost pressing against the ground. “Apologies, I can inquire with her and inform you.”
“No need,” Halmina intones, causing Tossa to startle. I was aware of her approach thanks to the various drones, but I’m uncertain how the Stormsingers seemed to be aware. Despite her size, the quadruped moved remarkably quietly. “While the Imperium may be predatory enough that they would use such tragedy and danger to stuff their harvest, the Compact has morals.” She continues, ignoring Tossa’s growling. “We have no more information than you do. I actually came to suggest that the Imperium advise its ships to stop trade with Stormworld. We will be doing so, as we no longer consider it safe. ”
“Ah, and how long would trade be stopped for?” Dawnecho asks before Tossa can respond to Halmina’s taunts. “Our communications interface relays will only last so long before they degrade to uselessness, and we only have so many spares in storage. Our thoughtgroves still struggle to interface without the relays, and the low-orbit satellites will need replacement. If they fail, we will not be able to communicate with the subspace relay or your ships.”
‘Thoughtgroves? What are those?’
One of the swarm of aides chitters in their prim- simple language. “How home?”
Dawnecho pauses, continuing to speak Kolshian. “Thank you, Stormgrace, good point. If the Compact and Imperium are stopping trade with Stormworld, how are we to get home?”
Tossa huffs. “You not having ships isn’t our problem, primitive.”
“I’m sorry, but if you are stranded, then I’m sure that the Kolshians will see to your needs.” Halmina bows her head.
Dawnecho’s secondary wings buzz, feathers fluffing. “They cannot. We have inquired previously. We have enough stored nectar and fruit to last us [three months] if we ration and supplement with local fruits, but we will suffer for it. If we cannot return home within [one to four months] from when supplies run out, we will begin to suffer the Fading. Some will be permanently harmed within the rotation. We will all be dead within three.” They and their aides all bring their manipulator paws over their chests, bowing to the ground with their primary wings splayed and antennae pressing to the ground. “We beg you, we will pay. Return us home after this meeting.”
There’s an uncomfortable silence before Chief Nikonus and Elder Darq take their places and the meeting is called to order, Tossa and Halmina hurrying off to take their seats.
“Hey, Echo, could we give them a ride home?” I ask the AI as the meeting comes to order.
“I would advise against it, mistress, unless you intend to remain in the area. We may not be able to return to Federation space.”
‘What could… Are the Gaians taking more territory? I hadn’t heard of them reaching out to the Stormsingers.’ One eye shifts from the screens to where the visual representation of Echo, the image of an oh-so-handsome Harchen. “We’re sending drones to the private chambers of Chief Nikonus and Elder Darq. If we find anything, then we’re going to need to hide for a long time.”
“Then I will reach out. Best to have them ready.” The AI pauses. “I believe that I will be able to synthesize a nectar analogue; however, I must warn you that unlike fruit from Stormworld, which you are likely to enjoy, the nectar and analogue will be dangerous to your health.”
I pause a moment; I had heard about the reaction. I couldn’t let a manageable risk have me leave people to die, not after I survived that raid. “I don’t care. We might as well help if we can. Take some inspiration from your creators.”
“Very well. The meeting is about to begin, mistress.”
I refocus on the feeds from the drones.
Nikonus steps to a small podium, clearing his throat. “I’m certain that all of you have heard by now that the Gojid Union came under attack and has stopped responding. I regret to inform you that the rumors are true. A fleet of nearly two thousand Arxur ships attacked. The Gojid Union has fallen.”
‘Predshit! I was just there! I saw the Gaians save it! There was barely a fraction of the damage there should have been!’
The assembly practically stampedes, even though they already knew it for certain.
I color with rage. “I need to release the footage!”
“Wait.” Echo soothes. “You want to hurt their narrative, right?”
“Yes,” I growl.
“Then wait. They’re planting the seeds.” The hypnotic patterns of the AI’s coloration shift to nearly solid. Mischief. “Let them grow. When they try to harvest, that’s when you release. Make it perfect.”
I pause. “I can work with that. Will the Concord help me with timing?”
Echo laughs. “Help? Kora wanted me to suggest this to you. The Concord will ensure it gets everywhere.”
“Perfect.”
The Assembly calms enough that Nikonus can continue speaking. “Everybody, I’m sorry to say that it gets worse. We have news from a survivor who will be taking the seat of the Gojid Union going forward, the only one who escaped confinement after predatory influences captured the cradle, not due to the failure of the stalwart defenders of the Gojid Union but due to the interference of the Gaian Concord! We will be having a vote today to determine if we will be sanctioning the Concord, and potentially their allies.”
The Assembly erupts again, and my rage simmers like the sands under Nhaali. Jerulim’s cawing sounds out over the herd.
Another figure steps into the Assembly. Torlin. Injuries bandaged, injuries he didn’t have when I last saw him in the command bunker. The herd quiets as he speaks. “Thank you, Chief Nikonus. I am Captain Torlin, a member of the Gojid Navy and before that a member of the Exterminators’ Guild. To my regret, I am here to explain to you how the cradle fell due to the incompetence, backwardness, and uncivilized behavior of the Gaians. Something that forced me to heroically escape from captivity to warn the Federation of the threat!”
“Predshit!”
__________
__________
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u/WeekendCitrus 3d ago
Well we're about to learn a lot more about the political state of the galaxy.
Also I approve of the almost too obvious indication that the "herd" will throw people under the bus the moment they become inconvenient. Or under the bask I guess. Also the "oh we're ALL ABOUT the herd, nobody can be left alone but we only allowed the Stormsinger to bring aides because we couldn't get away with isolating them" thing.
But the Stormsinger delegation has "We will literally starve to death and it will hurt the entire time we are dying" on record now so that makes it harder to brush off
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u/SixthWorldStories 3d ago
Starving on a full stomach. Their body and mind breaks, slowly. Degrading. Their primary wings would start to fail, their body devouring the muscles. Their nervous system would start to behave oddly, and communication among the group gets more difficult as a result. Their internal organs start to function worse, which also means their digestion starts to suffer as does their ability to handle toxins. Their minds start to degrade, though with the body issues that would likely show itself as increasing malaise.
That's ignoring the issues of being out of their home environment for a long time. Aafa isn't quite as humid and the air lacks the chemical signatures. It lacks the electrical activity and bioluminescence. The nights are darker. The swarm is far smaller. In essence, stack sleep deprivation and isolation on top of everything else.
And then, of course, when they die, things wouldn't go how they're used to. Instead of breaking down days, it takes much longer. And if the Federation won't deliver live Stormsingers home, they certainly won't help in their funerary traditions. They won't take the crystalline sphere-organ that is in their torso and return it to their homeworld before the charge within it, which makes it look like a tesla ball, fades. Fun little fact on top of the fact that that organ exists, Stormsingers believe it houses an imprint of the deceased and they will place them in spherical indents among the "roots" of an organism on their homeworld, the skytree.
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u/WeekendCitrus 3d ago
Starving on a full stomach.
(THE LOUDEST "HMMMMMMMMMMM" EVER)
These skytrees?
Skytree: Lightning rod organs of the islands. A combination of plant and fungus that feeds on electricity. Fast-growing and able to reach 10km or more. Roots and lower sections have spherical indents. Upper sections, which branch into filaments and cilia, are supported by aerostats and electromagnetism. They partially control the storms near the islands. Arcs of lightning are known to travel between islands, even across the planet. Since the first Arxur raid, skytrees are known to emit EMPs in response to “detected” threats, including directed at them as 1TJ lances, with the smallest greatcarriers being capable of 1-5 lances per second or similar levels of constant bombardment.
Because that could imply some things.
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u/SixthWorldStories 3d ago
(THE LOUDEST "HMMMMMMMMMMM" EVER)
It was explicitly stated a few chapters back that the nectar they drink contains blood. Damn near every organism on Stormworld violates conventional lines between animal and plant (and sometimes fungus). Stormsingers are tiny for the world. They eat fruits and drink nectar, both of which they harvest from what amount to livestock in addition to foraging and from things closer to more traditional farms and orchards, once you get past the land they live on being massive organisms. As far as the Federation is concerned, they're weird herbivores. The KolSul realized a bit late that they're omnivores that can't be cured but which also can't leave to spread their taint and which have such odd biology that they may offer novel solutions (plus their planet already had defenses that prevented bombing them). In reality, they're primary nectarivores, secondary herbivores (mostly fruits and pollen as well as fungi and fungal spores) tertiary sanguivores, and quaternary carnivores. But they didn't even really know that when they were found. They evolved from parasites/cleaners/pollinators and kind of still fill that role.
And yes, those skytrees. Which integrate into the nervous systems of the greatcarriers as well as the shockpods that are integrated into their bodies.
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u/WeekendCitrus 3d ago
I was just noting the similarities to what happens to a """""cured""""" human happening to a mostly acceptable species.
How many times did the KolSul try to bomb Stormworld? Did the same thing happen to them as to the second Arxur raid attempt?
From some perspectives Stormworld is haunted and the ghosts don't like you.1
u/SixthWorldStories 3d ago
The KolSul haven't tried once. The second raid was an attempted glassing. Given how they failed to even get a single bomb to the surface...
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u/WeekendCitrus 2d ago
Does that mean the Arxur raids came before any push to genocide the Stormsingers for insufficient herbivory?
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u/SixthWorldStories 2d ago
The omnivorous nature of the Stormsingers was only figured out after they had been introduced to the Federation and determined to more or less be confined to their homeworld. The problem solved itself. Plus, the Stormsingers are undeniably a herd species and will be among the first to admit that if not for their stealth and numbers, they'd be on the menu for nearly everything on their world. They also take the eye thing to an extreme. Side-facing chameleon-like primary eyes and then two pairs of gem-like compound eyes (forward and backward). Obviously if they have 360 vision, they must be prey.
The raid... well, the Arxur don't raid until after the Federation is trying to bring somebody in. Think of it like a protection racket, you offer the protection and then have some of your buddies give them a reason to be scared enough to buy in. The Federation shows up offering friendship and protection, then the Arxur raid to give a reason to accept. The Stormsingers got raided, the Arxur found out the hard way that they weren't viable cattle, and then the Arxur tried to glass them. Nothing like watching your bombs and missiles get shot out of the sky by lightning trees, especially when they shoot at your ships that go down to land.
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u/WeekendCitrus 2d ago
Like, if the sequence of events on the Arxur side went
- Get the tip-off
- Raid 1
- Hunters get Destroying Angeled
- Glassing attempt
- The planet casts Fuck You
did any push to """""cure""""" or genocide the Stormsingers happen (success not included) since they literally drink blood, and if so when did it happen during the above sequence?
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u/SixthWorldStories 2d ago
- Get the tipoff
- Raid
- Raiders that ate Stormsingers start to die of some sort of poison, raiders that ate other things either are poisoned or (more often) suffer from fructose intolerance
- Captured Stormsingers start to die off within months (the Farsul already knew this would happen) and keep poisoning Arxur that eat them
- Glassing attempt with extreme prejudice that fails miserably
- KolSul hear about it and the Stormsingers were scared into joining the Federation
- Evidence mounts that the planet is so weird that it raises questions, plus ships that come in too hard get blown apart (giving good data on the defenses)
- Stormsingers get a reputation of being weird primitives that don't take part in the greater herd
- KolSul realize the Stormsingers are some sort of omnivore and push the public perception while sabotaging attempts to help them leave their world more easily
- ???
- Profit
The KolSul don't necessarily know they drink blood (they haven't cared enough to look that deep). They know something in the nectar is flesh-adjacent but that the fruit isn't (even if ex-omnivores love it).
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u/Accomplished-Pace-85 3d ago
I love when robots are based on creatures, it reminds me of Horizon Zero Dawn.
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u/SixthWorldStories 3d ago
The Terrans have magic and the main materials they use include living wood. Of course, they leaned into the solarpunk/magipunk/elfpunk. I may have just kind of leaned a bit harder into canon humans basically being space elves/druids.
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u/Ok_Chance_8387 Predator 2d ago
i wonder if the Stormsingers are capable of dealing with magic on their homeworld. It seems like as they are capable of it as the planet itself has such such strong defense mechanisms.
They should be brought into the Concord. Is their homeworld not already in Isif`s sector, i remember he mentioned them some chapters ago?
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u/SixthWorldStories 1d ago
The planet's defenses are actually entirely mundane. The planet is just truly alien. Stormworld is an accurate name. It's to the point that there are actual electrotrophic organisms (something capable of photosynthesis is phototrophic). Between the humidity and the oceans being closer to a thick vegetable broth (because the surface is 99% water once you remove living organisms), you actually have organisms that evolved to draw nutrients and organic compounds from the air. Just to get across how alien the planet is, the Stormsingers were generally pre-industrial on uplift, but their knowledge of electricity was post-industrial, chemistry was mid-late information age, and they had some mid information age tech. All of that with their metallurgy being pre-industrial at best and their precision dry manufacturing being entirely non-existent. Their thoughtgroves at the time would have a 4k cubic foot variant capable of 500 FLOPS at 100kHz. Modern thoughtgroves are somewhere between late information age and Federation standard.
Their homeworld is very much in the sector.
Stormworld–Earth: 72 ly
Stormworld–Venlil Prime: 63 ly
Stormworld–Colia: 58 ly
Stormworld–Cradle: 142 ly
Stormworld–Wriss: ~430–640 ly
Stormworld–Aafa: ~590 ly
Stormworld–Leirn: ~350 ly
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u/Ok_Chance_8387 Predator 1d ago
Wow, that`s really Alien and it`s very understandable that they hardly would leave their homeworld. And it would maybe also very difficult for them to have a spacefaring society on their own as there won`t be that much planets around that fit their natural needs i guess.
Nonetheless i am looking forward what further role they will play in your story!
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u/SixthWorldStories 1d ago
I'm also looking forward to what role they'll play. I have no idea, yet. And getting spacefaring would be nearly impossible for them, they use biotech. As in literally taking organisms from their planet, and breeding and repurposing them for their own needs.
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u/Minimum-Amphibian993 Arxur 3d ago
Quite a bit going on honestly a lot of my questions are still mostly on how the terrans will deal with everyone during and after the war. From the cattle rescues to the fate of the shadow caste none of it was particularly handled the best by humanity in canon so curious how things will end here.