u/Inside_Judge5855

Thank you u/SpacePaladin15 for creating NOP and allowing the rest of us to tell our own stories with it.

Thank you u/Julianskies, u/Opposite_Charm, u/BigFella4054, and u/VenlilWrangler for proof reading and providing feedback.

They're all fantastic writers so please check our their stories if you haven't already.

I have a writer's thread in the NOP discord, feel free to stop by to discuss the story or for new chapter updates and future plans.

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Memory Transcription: Wyrtek, Prestige Exterminator 

Date [Standardized Human Time]: January 3, 2137

Eighty-four days after the Battle of Earth.

Valid memory transcript located, resume playback? Y/N

Y

Resuming playback. 

“Wyrtek!”

I groan, wincing as the smell of something burnt assaults my nostrils, adding an extra layer of unpleasantness to the pounding emanating from the back of my skull. I want to roll away from the source of the sound, but my body refuses to obey my orders.

Celestials, I feel like I got stepped on by a mazic. 

Everything felt… fuzzy. 

I must have overdone it again; I don’t remember when I left the precinct, let alone how I got home. I could tell by the pressure around my collar that I had fallen asleep in my uniform again, something that I was undoubtedly going to pay the price for when I next tried to brush myself and when I next saw the chief. I wasn’t in my bed either; hopefully I hadn’t scared Kiynol passing out like this. 

Kiynol…

That had to be what the smell was; silly kit had tried to make first meal and burnt it again. That was fine; I didn’t mind cleaning up after her. Celestials knew I couldn’t stay mad at her even if I tried. 

I’ll have to be extra embarrassing with my affection when I drop her off at school though-

“HELP! DON’T LET IT EAT ME! SOMEONE HELP ME, PLEASE!”

The pain in the back of my skull flares at the sound, making my eyes jerk open from the pain. I blearily glare into the swirling haze that surrounds me, searching for the source of the noise. Dark shapes move in the low light across from me, crouching over something.

“Damnit, just grab his fucking scruff."

“HELP!” The pinned shape bleats again, as the larger shadow turns its head down towards it…

PREDATOR! 

My paw flies to my collar on instinct, groping at the still-latched neck seal of my uniform. A paw grips my shoulder, giving me a gentle but firm squeeze. 

“Easy, Wyrtek, easy, you’re alright,” a faintly familiar voice drawls from my right.

ANOTHER ONE! 

My hooves scramble weakly against the floor as I try to push myself away from the monster, my paw frantically pulling on the neck seal.

GET AWAY! GET AWAY!

“Wyrtek! Wyrtek, stop! Just stop!”    

The creature’s grip on my shoulder tightens but still isn’t painful; it leans towards me. I tense, bracing myself for the coming bite, one that never arrives.

Wait…  

Short cropped yellow fur, pale skin, brown eyes… I know this person this predator. 

Clairby. 

The pilot. 

Everything comes flooding back at once, then, washing away the confusion and the last vestiges of nostalgia from my earlier delusion. It's like losing her all over again; a burning sensation begins to well behind my eyes as I blink to keep the tears back. I give into the fatigue, letting my head tip back onto the deck. A decision I regret immediately as a spur of pain splits my skull, quickly followed by a wave of nausea and dizziness.

“Easy, there, easy! You got your bell rung pretty good,” the human admonishes, his its grip on my shoulder still holding firm. “You’re back now, right? Not gonna try to bolt when I let go, are you?” 

I give the human a weak ear flick, uncaring if he understood or not. The primate’s posture relaxed a bit at that, his its hand slipping from my shoulder. 

Thankfully he it wasn’t on my left side. 

“Thank God,” he it responds. “Anything feel broken? How's your head?” 

“Feels like someone took an ice pick to the back of my head. How long was-” I croak. 

“Not long, maybe a minute or two,” the human interrupts, before a shout from down the corridor draws his its attention. “Shit, I’ve got to help the others; just don’t fall asleep, ok? I’ll be back in a minute.” 

I give another weak ear flick in response as the human quickly rises from his its crouch before hurrying down the hall. I make a half-hearted effort to pull myself up into a sitting position, only for the stabbing pain in my head to put me on my back again. I’ve seen enough apprentices with concussions to recognize the signs; Clairby the human is right.

Have to keep myself occupied; have to stay awake. 

Needing to keep my mind active and with my wits returned to me, I take stock of our situation as best as I can from my position. 

The corridor was lit by the low glow of yellow emergency lights, their soft glow catching on a thin layer of foul-smelling smoke that seeps into the space from somewhere behind us. Thankfully we didn’t seem to be close to whatever was burning, and there wasn’t enough smoke to be a concern, for now at least. 

I felt… floaty, though I couldn’t tell if that was a result of the blow I’d taken or if the Heartwood’s artificial gravity had begun to fail. One thing was painfully apparent, however; we were drifting. The deck was still beneath my back, and the sound of rending metal was still ringing in my ears. 

I don’t know what had attacked us, while a part of me instinctively leapt to accuse the humans; I could dismiss that thought out of paw. Predators culled the weak, attacking the Heartwood while healthy members of their pack were onboard was counterproductive to their survival. None of the Federation's military species had any reason to be out this far, and besides that, they wouldn’t have targeted a ship crewed by fellow prey over the humans. 

Just how they wouldn’t bomb Venlil Prime? 

The Arxur prowled around the edges of the herd, and they purposely attacked to disable ships rather than outright destroy them. But the greys were ravenous, barely sapient animals; they swarmed over their victims as soon as they were crippled. If it was them, I would have been woken up by scaled claws around my throat, not Clairby the pilot. 

A shiver passes down my spine at the thought.

Whatever it was, we're lucky, very lucky. 

The emergency lights being on soothes my nerves somewhat; the ship still had power, which meant that the airlocks in the hangar airlock could still be opened. We had a way out, assuming that the way to the hangar was still clear. 

And that the predators didn’t abandon us.

They haven’t yet.

Most of the overhead lights had been shattered by the impacts. My exterminator uniform had protected me from the falling glass but the others… 

A whimper draws my attention back to the group across from me; a human engineer holds a venlil by the scruff while one of the ‘peacekeepers’ tightens a tourniquet around their upper arm. Dark orange blood dribbles from a gash in their forearm, pooling around the humans’ legs, mixing with the few scattered drops of red that fall from the humans' own injuries. I intently watch the two primates for any sign of aggression, fully expecting the two of them to tear into the unfortunate prey, but they don’t. 

They’re injured; they have bleeding prey in their grasp. They… They should have lost control of themselves.

Like how Clairby should have when you first saw him? 

That…

I don’t have time to ruminate on my thoughts, though, as the sound of glass crunching under hoof alerts me to Clairby’s the pilot’s return. He It couches again on the right side, once again resting a claw on my shoulder and giving me a quick glance over. An involuntary shudder passes through me, a predator being this close while I’m wounded…

You know you’ll be fine. 

“Alright everyone,” Clairby the pilot begins, "we can’t reach Amoy or anyone from the team that was working in the engine compartment. I have also been unable to contact the Heartwood’s bridge, so I can’t give you any news on the state of the ship, if rescue is coming, or if the route to the hangar is still open. We’re on our own.” 

A murmur passes through the gathered humans and prey, which Clairby the pilot attempts to soothe with a placating wave of his its claws.

“However,” he it continues, "we still have power, which means that we can still cycle the airlock. I don’t know what the state the rest of the flotilla is, but when the reserve power runs dry, between us and the fires…” His its voice trails off. 

“It's now or never, folks. It’s not far to the hangar, so we’re going to make our way there in a calm, orderly fashion. Everyone that can still walk, I need you all to buddy up and help support or carry someone that’s injured. Ok? Good, get to it.” 

Clairby The pilot points to the peacekeeper, his its voice growing tight.

“I need you to carry Martinez.” 

With the soldier’s acknowledgement, he it turns back to face me, sending another shiver down my spine. He It moves its free claw to support my head while the other works under my right shoulder. 

"Alright, Bugs, you really aren’t supposed to do this, but we don’t have a choice. I need you to try to sit up.” 

Brahk, this is going to hurt. 

“Ok,” I respond, preemptively gritting my teeth. 

With a grunt I try to pull myself up, and like before I’m met with a wave of dizziness and nausea that would have put me on my back again if Clairby the pilot hadn’t been supporting me. Despite our urgency, I have to take a moment once I’m up; all three symptoms working together to really make me regret the day I was born. Even with the human’s help, I can barely keep myself upright. My vision swims with tears, adding to the disorientation from the dizziness, while the nausea threatens to relieve me of my first meal if I dare to open my mouth. 

“I’m sorry, Bugs, but we can’t wait any longer,” the human says softly, his its hand moving towards my left shoulder. 

The pistol! 

“Wait!” I croak, speaking quickly to beat the rising bile in my throat, “My shoulder’s hurt!” 

“Shit,” the human swears his its hand going to my waist. “Ok, hold onto me. Ready? Three… Two… One!” 

The human pulls me to my hooves with a grunt, stumbling slightly as I lean into him it to keep myself upright. 

“Come on, Wyrtek, come on,” the human grunts.

We shuffle forward, the human half dragging me as I’m unable to keep up with his its lumbering stride. The rest of the herd and humans fall in around us, many of the venlil clinging to each other and making reassuring ear and tail gestures to those being carried by the primates. Clairby’s The pilot’s hand shifts, making my breath catch.

Did he feel it? 

I try to focus on the human’s face, searching for anything that might indicate he knew what I was carrying. 

Nothing… Thank the Celestials. 

Slowly we begin to pick up speed as I become more sure on my hooves again, the nearness of the hanger and the possibility of escape driving me to push through the pain. I’m so focused on putting one hoof in front of the other that I don’t notice the peacekeeper that passes us or what he it is carrying. 

To our front a venlil brays in alarm, drawing my attention back to the herd. My own instincts spike at the sight; the soldier is carrying a body… the human’s chief engineer. 

The small female’s neck is twisted in an unnatural way; her it’s mouth hangs slightly open, leaking a thin stream of blood onto the peacekeeper’s uniform. My stomach turns at the sight, at the instinctual revulsion of seeing something dead. But… why carry her it? 

Did they just not realize? 

For the same reason you’d carry your fallen. 

Predators didn’t do that… they shouldn’t do that. 

Just like how predators didn’t have music? 

They… they just didn’t know, that had to be it.

Sure. 

I avert my eyes from the confusing and morbid spectacle; the peacekeeper soon passes between a pair of humans and disappears from view. The rest of the jog to the hangar passes in a blur as my attention returns to staying on my hooves. 

And hiding your eyes from anything else that might go against your beliefs.  

The sharp hiss of hydraulics startled me out of my focus… we’d made it. The venlil are the first to break the uneasy calm of our march, stampeding around the humans to reach the shuttle. Many of the humans join them, almost as if they’re worried there won’t be enough space. 

Both of the humans' ships are here, thankfully still locked onto their pads and seemingly undamaged. The two most beautiful machines I’ve ever seen. 

Just hope the rest of the fleet is still here. 

“Someone go check the other shuttle!” Clairby the pilot shouts to the rest of the herd, “We aren’t leaving anyone.” 

One of the unburdened humans in front of us splits off towards the other ship. My hoof catches on the lip of the ramp, nearly making both of us fall. 

“Come on, Wyrtek, just a little further now,” he it grunts, slipping the words between labored breaths. 

The climb up the ramp is short but arduous, ending thankfully close to an open space. The human carefully dumps me into the seat; he it attempts to strap me in, but I swat his its claws away.

Can’t risk him it finding the holster now. 

“Just make sure you get strapped in, and no sleeping,” the primate says with a nod before he it sprints back to the still-open ramp. 

“Come on, hurry up!” He It bellows, activating the ramp control as two ragged venlil stampede past, joined by the human who had split off.

The ramp locks into place behind the stragglers with a dull clang, briefly plunging the passenger compartment into darkness before the shuttle's lights wink to life. Clairby The pilot sprints past me towards the cockpit, eliciting several fearful brays as he it passes the seated venlil. 

The shuttle dips slightly as the platform descends into the airlock, the hum of the shuttle’s engines building to a keening whine that makes my fur stand on end. My paws grip the harness straps tightly as visions of us trapped in a depowered airlock play on repeat in my mind. 

Trapped in a steel box with over a dozen predators… 

Should be more worried about whatever attacked the Heartwood, rather than the humans. 

The shuttle lurches forward, making me wince as the back of my head taps the seat. I curse under my breath and brace myself as best as I can.

Clairby’s The pilot’s barking laughter drifts down from the cockpit. 

“They’re still here!” He It bellows, prompting an uproar of cheers and bleats from the seats around me. 

“They’re signaling us in; this might get a bit rough!” 

The vibrations running through my seat intensify as the shuttle accelerates towards safety.

They hadn’t left us! 

You knew they wouldn’t. 

They didn’t abandon us, but they also hadn’t come for us; there had to be other survivors on the Heartwood as well. Even if the humans and SF refused to act, the rest of the flotilla should have rushed to aid their herd. So why didn’t they?

Whatever attacked the Heartwood is still here. 

The back of my scruff rises at the thought, as I will the small ship to go faster. 

“Alright, everybody, hold on!” 

The shuttle jerks to a stop, and a dull clang bounces around the cabin, reinvigorating the pounding in my head. A scratch later, a familiar tremor rolls through the shuttle, an FTL jump. 

They left the Heartwood…

Like you care, they were 'diseased,' remember?

“Ok folks,” Clairby The pilot says, arriving just in time to distract me from my thoughts. 

“You might have felt it a moment ago, but yes, we just jumped into FTL. We’re safe.”

My paws release their white-knuckle grip on the seat harness, and relieved sighs drift from the herd and humans at the news. 

“Now,” he it continued, “I spoke with the bridge. Dr. Rivera’s people are on their way, so they should be here by the time we’re out of the airlock. Everyone’s gonna pay a visit to the medical ward for a non-negotiable check-up, humans included, so don’t even try to argue.” 

My heart drops to my hooves as I realize where I am, the hostler reminding me of its presence with a timely pinch. 

The human’s den.

Ittel preserve me…

“I know that a few of you are likely pretty shaken up by that,” he it continues in a softer tone, sweeping his it’s predatory eyes over us. 

IT! IT! IT!

IT is a predator! You’re armed in ITS den; you have no reinforcements coming! IT is a flesh eater, and thinking IT’S anything else is going to get you killed!

"But the ship is on lockdown, and it will remain that way until we’re all in the medical ward, so there won’t be anyone in the halls but us and the nurses. On top of that, Dr. Tyrlid from the Shield is going to be on a video call with Dr. Rivera while she’s looking everyone over, so no one's going to be alone with a human.” 

He It makes his its way to the shuttle’s ramp controls.

“Now, everybody stay in your seats until they say otherwise, got it?” He It says, raising his its voice to be heard over the lowering hydraulics. 

The ramp has barely touched the hangar deck before a mob of white-suited humans surge into the shuttle, pushing gurneys and clutching aid kits under their arms. Two of the ‘nurses’ stop in front of me, their faces twisting with disdain when they see my exterminator uniform. They begin to walk past me when Clairby the pilot calls out to them. 

“Hey! I had to carry him here. He's got a concussion, and something’s up with his shoulder as well. He’s got to get looked at, quick.” 

Why does he it care? 

He’s making sure you’re getting medical care, and you still call him ‘it’? 

One of the humans grumbles something under its breath as they back up with the gurney, lowering it so I can easily climb on from the seat. The pair offer no help as I lay down, not even looking at me as they affix the straps over my legs and midsection. 

I’m being restrained by predators. 

So you don’t fall off and crack your head open. 

Besides, they don’t seem to even have a passing interest in you. 

As if on cue, the humans separate, one moving behind my head while the other disappears into the crowd. A prickling sensation begins to creep over the back of my neck as the human jogs me down the ramp. Fortunately, they didn’t place any restraints over my chest or arms, so I won’t be entirely unable to protect myself. Whether they made that decision because of my ‘injured shoulder’ or because they only wanted to do the bare minimum with me, I cannot tell. 

How are you planning on getting out of that story? 

I’ll… Think of something. 

I’m one of the first wounded to be wheeled out of the shuttle and into the cavernous space of the human hangar; the space is well lit… and much cleaner than I had expected. Their shuttles being presentable made sense; they had to look nice for the herd, but their den? Only humans ever saw the inside of this vessel… and prey that hadn’t left since they’d gotten onboard. 

“Where are the venlil tha-” I begin 

The human cuts me off with an exasperated groan.

“They’re either in their shuttles or sheltering in place like the rest of the ship. They’re fine.” 

It's lying. 

You’re already ‘in the predator’s den,' and you’re strapped to a rolling hospital bed. Why would he bother to lie to you? 

The human’s attention leaves me and doesn’t return for the rest of the time we’re in the hangar, or during our time with the others in the elevator. It isn’t until we enter the part of the ship where I assume the humans make their burrows that he it finally speaks again.  

“Just so you know, Firebug, word travels quick in here. You threaten anyone, lay your hands on anyone, and you’ll regret it.” 

My hackles rise at the threat, as if I would be so stupid as to try anything here on my own. 

You smuggled a gun with you! 

Only to be used in self-defense. 

Or when you get startled. 

“I wasn’t planning on causing any trouble,” I respond tersely, careful to keep my tone free of venom. 

The human snorts, “Sure you weren't." 

The rude silence returns as we make our way down a long hall ending in a single door guarded by one of the humans' 'peacekeepers.' 

“Is this all of them?” She It, calls nervously. 

“No, just the most severe cases; the rest will be up soon,” one of the other ‘nurses’ responds before dropping her its voice to a low whisper. “Get someone down to the hangar; Martinez didn’t… we couldn’t spare anyone.”

The female’s face goes pale. “Oh God… I’ll… I’ll get someone on it before the lockdown ends.” 

So they did know.

Their ‘nurses’ knew, not the engineers. 

Her Its eyes snap to me as I’m wheeled past, their gaze turning cold. 

Thankfully, we’re out of her Its sight quickly, the sharp smell of antiseptic washing over me as I’m pushed through the door. Like the rest of the ship, the humans’ medical facilities are also… not what I was expecting. It was well lit and clean like the rest of the humans’ ship had been, but it was also well supplied. 

Even the arxur had some understanding of medicine, but what little they had retained had been taught to them by the Federation, an opportunity the humans had never been given. While I want to lay the blame at Tarva’s or maybe the zurulian’s paws, nothing here is of Federation make. 

Predators culled their weak, sealing wounds, and amputating ruined limbs was one thing; it was another altogether to keep a wounded person on life support. They shouldn’t be capable of it, shouldn’t even be able to conceive of the idea! 

Tarva or Braylen must have taught them…

But that couldn’t have been the case; nothing here is on par with the Federation’s medical technology, predators were an enigma, humans especially. But it was nonsensical to create crude replicas when they could have just stolen or demanded the modern machines.

My thoughts are interrupted as the gurney is wheeled around before finally coming to a stop in a small space walled in with plastic curtains. I don’t even have time to speak to the ‘nurse’ before the human is passing through the curtains.

“Dr. Rivera will be with you shortly,” he it calls back to me as the plastic swishes behind him it. 

A gap remains open in the human’s wake, giving me a little view of the ward outside my cubicle. I roll my shoulder as I watch the opening; at least now I’d see them coming if they came to attack me. 

That’s what you’re worried about now? 

Yes, never relax around a predator. Especially when you’re wounded. 

Time drags on as my eyes remain locked to the space between the curtains; more gurneys pass by carrying humans and prey alike. My ears perk up at the sound of voices, one I don’t recognize and two I didn’t expect to hear again. 

“I’m really hungry, Gram,” a child beeps whinely.

The kit the humans took. 

Look at that; Clairby wasn’t lying.

“Me too,” another adds; the voice is high-pitched but unmistakably human.

A human cub, it has to be.

“I know, but we can go back to our quarters now. Remember that the nice man in the lunch line gave us some crackers and dried fruit?” Another venlil responds, her voice thin and frail with age. 

And her grandmother. 

She… She was bleeding, and they took her. She’s too old to be of any use; they should have…

“But I don’t want crackers and dried fruit!” The kit protests. 

“I’m sorry, Steni, but that’s all we have for now; it's already past second meal, and the soldier said that third is going to be delayed because of the lockdown,” the old female replies in a parental tone that makes my heart ache. 

The pair of them passes the opening, still looking whole and healthy at least from my limited glance. The human youngling walks behind them, his its mouth opening to speak when its head suddenly snaps to me as it comes to a sudden stop. The kit little predator’s eyes go wide as their gaze bores into me. 

He’s It’s young; he it likely doesn’t have the same level of control as the adults. 

My paw unconsciously rises to my neck seal.

Don’t you dare! 

“Daniel?” The old ven asks.

She returns to view, placing a paw on the kit’s little predator’s shoulder. Her ears pin back when she sees me, her pawhold on his its shoulder becoming tighter. 

“Daniel, we need to leave,” she says, pulling the kit little predator close to her and backing away from the opening.

Her eyes never leave me, and the human doesn’t protest as she pulls him it out of sight. 

Is she scared of me*?* 

Why wouldn’t she be? You're a threat to one of her pups.

That thing is not her pup.

She sure seemed to think he was.

It's… It's a predator kit cub*! I don’t know how the humans can control themselves, but their young can’t have the same level of mastery over themselves.* 

An uncontrollable predator that lets himself get pulled around by prey? Elderly prey at that? 

The adults must be keeping it in check, using those two to teach it impulse control, maybe? Or they’re using them to raise it on their behalf! 

Yes, because the ‘bloodthirsty monsters’ definitely would want prey to raise their kits. 

I… I don’t know! There’s more at play here; I need more information.

Wonder if he lost his parents. 

I don’t care. 

Do you think he’s close to Kiynol’s age? 

Don’t.

Please don’t…

The curtains are thrust aside roughly, their hiss pulling me from my thoughts. A human female enters the cubicle, wheeling a pad on a small stand with her. A grey-haired Zurulian looks out through the machine, its green-tinged eyes lighting up in recognition at the sight of me. 

“Officer Wyrtek! It’s very good to see you safe and sound! Well, Officer Verriduna is going to be quite relieved; she’s been inquiring quite insistently about your health, you know.” He exclaims.

“Tell Verri- Officer Verriduna that I’m fine.” 

“Oh, of course, is-” 

“Doctor,” the female interrupts.

“Oh dear me, yes, this is no time for foraging. Now let me see, ah, a concussion! How have you been feeling, officer? Any dizziness or vomiting?”

“At first, but that’s largely gone now. No vomiting.”

“I assume the treatment is the same for humans and nevok?” the human doctor asks.

Tyrlid gives an exaggerated nod in response.

“Good, a nurse will be by shortly with something for the headache; I’ll have them bring some bandages as well. Now, Clairby said something was wrong with your shoulder?” 

Brahk.

“Yes… I hurt it when the Heartwood was struck. But it’s fine now; it doesn’t hurt at all.” 

One of the strips of fur above the female’s eye rises.

“Really?” She It asks skeptically. 

“Hmm, I think it would be best to x-ray the area, don't you, Dr. Rivera? Get a better idea of the damage, if there is any.” 

“I agree,”

Brahk! Brahk!  

“I’m fine!” I insist. 

“With all due respect, Officer Wyrtek, Dr. Riviera and I are professionals; you are not."

“I said I’m fine!” I hiss, shooting a pointed glare at the human. “Don’t touch me, predator.” 

Very bad idea.

“Officer Wyrtek!” Tyrlid admonishes, “That is no way to speak to a medical professional. I can understand your concern to a certain extent bu-” 

“It. Will. Not. Touch. Me.” I hiss again, punctuating the final word by clicking my teeth. 

The human recoils at the sharp staccato sound, her its lips curling in a sneer. 

“Wyrtek, you will cease thi-” Tyrlid begins again, almost vibrating in anger, before the human cuts him off. 

“It’s fine, Tyrlid; the officer says he’s fine,” she it says in an icy voice. “We have other patients in need of attention. I’m certain the officer will let us know if anything feels off." 

Tyrlid doesn’t get a chance to answer before his cart is spun around and pushed through the curtain wall. The human stares daggers at me as she it pulls the curtain shut behind them. 

Already making enemies. 

It doesn’t matter.

I let out a relieved sigh; I’d done it! Assuming Tyrlid kept his word, Verri would whip up a blizzard around Vilka to get me off this ship. He was certainly diseased, but he wasn’t so far gone that he’d try to lie to an exterminator, especially not about my survival. They wouldn’t be able to keep me here for long; I’d walk out of this predator’s den yet. 

Get back to the herd. 

Get back to Verriduna.

That’s all that mattered. 

For your sake, I hope it’s that simple. 

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