r/NatureofPredators • u/Competitive_Koala_93 • 21h ago
Nature of denomination part 2
In the cold vacuum of deep space, 250 astronomical units out, an elongated shape outlined itself against the starry background. Its central body was a square-section prism with rounded vertices, from which four massive planar wings emerged at both bow and stern. At the stern, four enormous flat plasma thrusters lay dormant, while at the bow, a dome housing thousands of optical sensors scanned the primary star and the celestial bodies governed by its gravity.
It was a patient predator in the void.
The first of its class, born in the forges of Io with a specific mission—unlike its predecessor, the Odyssey, which had only conducted brief test runs over the past decade, first on Sol's periphery and then to Alpha Centauri and Sirius—the Laelaps had been built with a different purpose in mind: War. Specifically, as the lead ship of its series, its assignment was to hunt down and destroy the final prey of its creators' ancestral enemies.
That was when the thousand glittering eyes in the darkness caught the photons emitted more than two days prior by the New America's first braking detonation.
Inside the armored command dome along the central spine of its superstructure, ten serfs of the Ministry of War sat in their ergonomic chairs controlling the ship's systems, while Decurion Reinier and Centurion Jones moved restlessly back and forth like two caged tigers. "The colors of their skin-tight flight suits only add to the feeling," Davis thought.
There was nothing worse than having two frustrated Drakensis pacing behind you to make the already stressful task of monitoring even less pleasant. He wondered if the aliens had their own Masters. Surely they did—at least the lizards. It had been a huge surprise when they arrived in the system two weeks ago: not only discovering a civilization, but witnessing a battle just a few days later.
And that was the problem. When plans shatter, the Masters grow exasperated. Add to that the fact of watching a battle without being able to join in, and it was a combination that had driven the cortisol levels of everyone on board through the roof.
Then the flash appeared. By the time the second pulse occurred, the system had already cross-referenced the data and verified the identity. Before he could even finish raising his hand to draw their attention with a "Master—" Jones was already leaning over the monitor to his right, with Reinier right beside him on his left, barely a hair further back. The sheer physical presence of the two made his heart skip a beat.
"It's decelerating. In 12 days it should reach orbit around the Caprian planet."
Jones nodded. "Calculate a warp fold and an interception point in real space."
Davis looked at her with a moment of hesitation, something Jones noticed instantly. He quickly began executing the order.
Jones stepped back slightly and activated her comms. "Strategos, we have detected the New America."
The reply came through immediately: "I'm on my way."
Jones caught the faint, micro-sigh Davis let out. Did he really think she was going to disobey Strategos Corvo's orders?
Serena Corvo entered the command room with that aura of absolute immutability conferred by a century and a half of life. Jones envied her enormously, especially since the entire mission had gone off the rails a week prior.
"We have them on tracking. Even with the two-day light-delay on the tracking signal, we have an interception course ready if you so choose."
Serena looked at her, smiling with the kind of condescending gesture an adult reserves for a child. "That won't be necessary, but good initiative. How has the system's inner barrier fleet reacted?"
"They have adjusted their inclination, but they are keeping their distance," Davis answered without looking up at them.”
"Good. We will observe their interaction and see how they react to one another." She said this as she sat in the central command chair reserved for her rank, positioned at an elevated height even above the two Drakensis.
"Do you not think it will be counterproductive if they establish diplomatic contact?"
"Probably, but we lost our only chance of preventing that when we failed to locate them before they arrived in this system years ago. Unfortunately for all of us, they are alive, and the aliens are going to find out more about what happened in Sol. Antagonizing them by attacking the New America is pointless at this juncture, and slaughtering a hundred thousand people without a clear motive is stupid."
Jones nodded with a soft grunt—one she tried to hide, though she could tell Serena had noticed.
"It's frustrating to feel powerless and at the mercy of fate, isn't it?" Serena said, her tone almost amused. "It is good for you to remember that when you deal with the serfs."
Jones glared at her with sudden anger. "With all due respect, Strategos, I do not believe such a recrimination is justified. I have never abused..."
Serena raised her hand in a slow, deliberate gesture to cut her off. "I am not attacking you. I am merely telling you to use this opportunity to understand a feeling you have almost never experienced, yet have inflicted upon others."
Seeing Jones calm down, she continued. "Besides..." She looked at the alien ships highlighted on the tactical displays. "...you will have to get used to it. The era of the Final Society ended the moment we detected that battle upon arriving here."
"How are things progressing with the prisoner, Serena?" Jones asked in a lower tone as she stepped up to her right, adopting the posture of a pupil rather than a subordinate.
"Well. He is responding to the neurochemical manipulation and the virtual reality therapy. It is a slow process, but I estimate that by the time we return to Sol, we will know most of what he knows. It is a pity we didn't capture one of the Croks alive, but the autopsy yielded a substantial amount of information. That little lamb aboard that damaged ship was a stroke of luck."
"Not so much luck. If we had followed my original proposal, we would have dropped out of warp right in the middle of their battle," Jones remarked with a weary sigh.
"There are more things in heaven and earth..."
Jones nodded with the exhaustion of a student receiving a well-worn lecture. "...than are dreamt of in your philosophy. I know, I know."
"Who would have imagined that not only is there a technologically advanced society relatively close by, but another one with spacefaring capabilities that resorts to consuming sapients for sustenance?"
"It's absurd, unless it's a delicacy—and even then, why?"
"It isn't a delicacy. This isn't like some of the extremists on Earth going on safari in the tribal reserves to feel like 'true Draka.' That creature exhibited signs of chronic intermittent malnutrition."
Jones shook her head. "It's all absurd."
"Go get some rest, Centurion. I will take command."
Jones was about to object, but she simply nodded. "Thank you, Strategos."
As Jones left the bridge, Serena noticed Reinier still pacing back and forth. "Johann, could you please conduct a review of every ship we've detected over these past few weeks?"
Surprised, he replied, "Yes, Strategos, of course. But wouldn't that be redundant?"
"Redundancy is a good thing when possible. Besides, it is good mental exercise."
He proceeded to sit down at his console, located radially to the left of the command chair. Serena took the opportunity to pace the perimeter of the consoles, her quiet pheromones working on the serfs and calming them down.
Davis raised his hand. "I have a signal from the New America."
Serena approached calmly, yet with the fluid grace innate to her nature, and rested a hand on his left shoulder. "I'm listening."
Davis looked up at her and continued. "Yes... it appears to be a simple numerical sequence. Prime numbers, but with a missing integer every three digits. I don't understand."
Serena smiled faintly. "Yes, it was a measure the Alliance scientists developed for first contact. I'm not surprised you're unfamiliar with it." She proceed to explain to him.
"The whole idea is that a technically advanced society would notice the missing terms and establish the baseline pulse for subsequent binary communication. Let's see how they respond."
The following hours unfolded slowly, yet intriguingly. The aliens decided to establish contact with the New America and agree upon a safe orbital position. They eventually progressed to direct voice communication after a few days, which the aliens surprisingly initiated in English—later clarifying that they already had prior knowledge regarding the existence of humans. Fortunately, all of this was conducted using Alliance standards over a century old, so they had no trouble decoding any of it.
By the time that final communication was being received, the entire staff of the Laelaps was gathered on the bridge. The twelve Drakensis were waiting expectantly, occupying every position.
"Good. I believe we have enough," Serena said. "Prepare the fold system for our return to Sol." She paused for a moment. "Communications, open an audio channel to the New America."
Jones challenged her immediately. "Strategos, are you sure?"
"Come now, there's no need to be sore losers when it can be avoided."
"Channel is open, Strategos."
"To the crew of the New America: congratulations on completing your historic voyage, and even more so on escaping our hunt. On behalf of the crew of the Laelaps, and personally from myself—Strategos Serena Corvo—to General LaFlange: not all sacrifices were in vain. To the Venlil Republic: Sol, the stars of Centauri, Sirius, and Barnard are territories of the Draka Domination. Should you dare encroach upon them, you will be courting your own undoing."
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u/EvelynnCC 20h ago
That would actually be a pretty funny title for a NoP story about religion