I feel a hint of embarrassment as I explain. "It's not something we talk about very often, but most of the predatory swarms we have to fight off are the result of our own actions. Before we colonized the planet, we bombarded large swathes of the planet during nuclear and antimatter weapon tests. This had the unintended effect of triggering a volatile evolution in the formerly single-celled organisms that existed on its surface."
Kira stares at me for a moment, making me uneasy.
Then, she laughs at me. I grumble in irritation, feeling the need to defend my ancestors.
27
Drasuk
"They were a bit reckless with their weapon tests," I admit hastily. "A lot of the planet is considered 'no life zones' because of the constant devastation from energy and biological weapon, but they did it to make sure we had effective weapons to defend ourselves."
She continues to laugh, clutching her sides, and I sigh in exasperation.
"It's not funny," I grouse.
When she finally stops laughing, she wipes a tear from her eye. "It's just... it's such a cosmic joke. Creatures that evolved to be so dangerous ended up creating their own predators. Why would you test weapons on a planet you planned to live on, Drasuk?"
"Well, we didn't plan on living there. We thought it would simply be a forward base, but then our manticorid overlords decided to become pacifists."
She devolves into another laughing fit, and I huff as I give up and let her have her fun.
Her cackling at my expense eventually tapers off.
"Giant creatures that shoot lightning? That sounds terrifying," she finally says, her voice tinged with awe.
I rumble a sound that's somewhere between a chuckle and a growl. "The ak'thor are fearsome. Their bodies crackle with raw electrical energy, and their roars can shake mountains. A single one can lay waste to an entire battle-group if you're not prepared."
"And the snake-people?" she presses, her curiosity piqued.
"The xylanth, xhasa in the old tongue," I clarify. "They're a race of winged serpents, soaring through the skies in massive formations, raining fire and death down on their enemies."
"Fire?" she echoes, a frown creasing her brow. "But they're serpents, wouldn't that hurt them?"
I ripple my hide to let her know I don't have much knowledge about it. "They've adapted. Their fire is more like a super-heated venom they spew from their fangs. It burns with an unnatural intensity, capable of melting rock."
"From the looks of you, I would have thought you would be the fire breather."
My spines shift in confusion. "Why?"
"You sort of look like adragon, but not exactly. Something from legends."
I let out a snort. Who knows what messed up views she has of me based on her own species mythology.
"No. We are mostly impervious to fire because of our planet of origin, but we are nothing like the xylanth."
She whistles, a low, impressed sound. "I can see why you talk so much about being precise and calculated. Your planet is more dangerous than mine. We have predators, but nothing like that."
"Well, it has its uses, since it keeps us from being too soft. Long before the manticorid pacifist movement, even the more bloodthirsty families of the Darangul Clan had been bled dry of the urge to act on our age-old urge for conquest. The manticorids left a power vacuum we were in no position to fill, and so we remained on Maln'Kri. The thirst for violence is still there, but thanks to evolution, we drakonids are a very unambitious race."
"You are saying conflicting things, Drasuk. You are either violent or not."
"What I mean is there is violence and then there is a need for conquest. We have the former, but lost the latter. We are peaceful in the galactic sense, but our old ways haven't been forgotten. We are at the farthest reaches of drakonid-dominated space. That isn't to say we are left alone, though. Far from it."
"Genali and braceaaer?"
"Mostly genali. Our body parts are sought after."
"Maternal copulators," she grits out.
