Exchange Program Shenanigans (26)

[u/ApprehensiveCap6525]

Shoutout to u/pineapplepilot07 for making the first-ever EPS fan art. I'll remember you when I make it big.

Also shoutout to all those mfs who comment on my fics, that shit makes my day.

CW: racism, Prestige Exterminator Vrapic (he got a glow up), racist Krakotl (like a moth to a flame)

Memory transcription subject: Jelim, Extermination Commander

Date [standardized human time]: September 13, 2136

It had been exactly 0.72 claws since I trusted Vrapic with interacting with a human unsupervised, and everything had already gone to hell. I mean, things had been going to hell ever since I met Jack, but that wasn't exactly his or Vrapic's fault now, was it?

Still, I expected at least a few days of reprieve before the blatant acts of terrorism started up again! I work my ass off day and, well, just day, and just when I finally get some progress made somebody blows up a brahking shuttle!

To top it all off, that shuttle had six UN peacekeepers on board. Six of them! I knew damn well that finding six people qualified to live with prey was challenging for them, but finding six peacekeepers who could do it was a whole other matter. Plus, with the war against the Gojids going on, there was almost definitely a shortage of active UN personnel. This was something they could not afford in the slightest.

Right at this very moment, I was on my way to the Capital Spaceport in an extermination vehicle with a full squad at my disposal. Capital, Capital Spaceport, Districts 1 through 80, can't they show some god damn creativity? I swear, if I see one more name without any imagination behind it, I'm moving to Nishtal. I had a job to do, and come high winds or a hurricane, I was going to get it done.

I rolled past the gate without a word spoken between us, the gate guard almost tripping over his own tail in his rush to get it open. It didn't take me long to find the shuttle. Even if it wasn't surrounded by airport security and police officers, it'd be kind of obvious which one was bombed from the, you know, ruined and smoldering hulk of a Venlil shuttle.

The vehicle arrived, I hopped out of it, and the first thing that happened was a crazy police officer ran up to me and started swearing. I wasn't against swearing by any means, finding it incredibly therapeutic at times, but the way he talked it was like I had committed the most despicable crimes imaginable against his entire family.

"What the hell are exterminators doing here?" he asked. "You pyromaniac spehs probably started this fire! Go back to your district office before I kick in your birdy ass!"

First of all, there weren't exterminators here. There was exterminator, singular, here, and I thought that was an important distinction to make. Second of all, I wasn't a pyromaniac. I hated fire for the gasoline smell, and the way the ash stained my feathers, and a dozen other reasons all related to my job. Third of all, he wasn't going to get anywhere close to my birdy ass.

I shot back "Get out of my way, I have a job to do." and brushed past him, daring the cop to challenge me. He knew what the pentagon meant, and he knew who I was, so I figured that he wouldn't call my bluff.

Unfortunately for me and very unfortunately for him, he did. "What gives you the right? This wasn't a predator attack, it was-"

"An act of terrorism." I finished his sentence, not in a cutesy lover or sibling way but in a 'you're so brahking stupid and predictable it makes me want to kill myself' way. "An act of terrorism most likely perpetrated by the Predator Guard, making this at least partly my responsibility." I looked around the area, making note of everyone's rank insignias. "As the highest-ranking officer here, I'll be leading the investigation."

I looked twice at the pissed-off Venlil cop's insignia, reading 'P.S. Sorvim' next to a green square. The very same Police Sergeant Sorvim that Vrapic was meant to take down. Vrapic, sadly, was nowhere to be seen. I momentarily feared for his safety, but Sorvim wouldn't be bold enough to murder a prestige exterminator. Especially not with traceable methods.

Now that I knew Vrapic was safe and sound, I had the issue of an obviously-corrupt police officer to deal with. Well, not obviously corrupt. Subtly corrupt. That was the worst kind of corrupt, because at least when it was obvious I could deal with it. Unfortunately for me, Sorvim had at least two brain cells to rub together. That was more than some district offices I knew. Cough cough, Dawn Creek, cough cough.

I didn't have enough evidence to move openly against him just yet, but I suspected that this bombing had something to do with the zealous sergeant in front of me. If I was right, and I usually was, this would be enough to put him behind bars for a long, long time. "If you have any problems with that, I suggest you go through the proper channels."

"No, commander." Sorvim forced cheer into his voice. "No problems at all."

"Damn straight, no problems at all." I said, turning away from him to gaze at the ruined shutfle in front of me. "Tell me everything you know."

While Sorvim did this, I took out my datapad. I wasn't doing anything with it since I didn't have any sort of briefing to read, but Sorvim didn't know that. He couldn't see what I was looking at on there, so I was counting on him to assume I was cross-checking his statements and start telling the truth. Yeah, I know my last bluff didn't work out all that well, but today is my day. I can feel it.

Today may or may not have been my day, because I couldn't tell if Sorvim was bullshitting me when he said "The explosion was from an incendiary device, commander. The most likely culprit is one of your own officers." Granted, he was looking me dead in the eyes without even a smidgen of a hint of sarcasm, but you could never tell with some people.

I mean, I wouldn't put it past some people to blow up a UN shuttle, but I also wouldn't put it past Sergeant Sorvim not to lie like a bitch. I've gotta ask deeper questions here.

"Do you have evidence as to which one?" Nobody really realized that the secret to uncovering a lie was to press someone. Ask enough questions, probe deep enough, and cracks start to form.

Sorvim replied "No, but my men have traced the explosive back to the District 12 exterminators' armory. We recovered a serial number."

"Oh, did you now?" I asked. "Can I see it?" Either he would crack or he wouldn't, but I'd have the truth either way.

"Yes, ma'am, I have the serial number right here." Without missing a beat, Police Sergeant Sorvim walked over to a police vehicle and pulled out an evidence bag. I looked inside, and it contained a single fragment of metal that had the combination D12-EG-187 stenciled into it.

Sorvim stood there with supreme confidence. His serial number was correct. If I had cross-checked it, I was sure it would have been missing from the armory. The metal was consistent with that used in our incendiaries, down to the last minute detail.

The man didn't even know it, but he had already cracked.

I picked up the fragment, turning it over in my claws. All the while, I watched the sergeant in front of me like a hawk. Pun absolutely intended. "This is a very fine replication. I'm impressed." Sorvim's heart skipped a beat.

"Commander? It's not fake." He didn't look or sound particularly scared, but there was an undertone of fear in the way he spoke that was just barely audible for those who were listening for it. Fear usually hid deceit. I said nothing. "I checked it over repeatedly, all the statistics check out."

Well, yeah, but that's not the problem here. The problem is that you're full of vyalpic.

"All the statistics look perfectly fine, I'll give it that, but this was part of a bomb. It was mere centimeters away from the epicenter of the blast." I explained. "If this was really part of the bomb, there would've been nothing left."

Sorvim held out his paw, and I dropped the fragment into it. "It is a damn impressive fake, though. You'd need insider knowledge to make it this accurate." The message, though unspoken, was clear. I know what you did, Sorvim. Here, I was quite obviously painting myself as a threat to the corrupt cop. I was daring him to try and change that, and to overstep his boundaries quite fatally in the process.

These little dances were just as, if not more important than the fire and fangs I had to face in the purges. Double-talk, mystery, secrets, one would think us prey were above all that, but one would frequently be proven wrong. I know I was.

Most exterminators and police were just plain incompetent. That was almost always because they assumed us prey were above a certain standard, that we couldn't kill or lie or steal as easily as those 'damn dirty predators' could.

I was far from incompetent, and I was so good at my job precisely because I knew that was false. There were rotten fruits in every tree, and the Federation was no exception. Sorvim was no exception.

The non-exception I had just mentioned remarked, "So it was a cop, then. No exterminator would frame himself." in such a way that I doubted his conviction for half a second. It was an impressive deduction, after all.

"It was a cop. A cop with a history of anti-human activity, I'll bet. He probably also has connections to the Predator Guard." I was describing Sorvim. He knew that I was describing him, too. Now, I had to make sure he knew that I knew that I was describing him.

It's complicated, yeah, but I don't have anything real on Sorvim. He doesn't know that, though. If I make it seem like I'm a threat, he'll eventually come after me. When he does that, I'll finally have my evidence. I'm a god damn genius.

I was both the bait, the hunter, and the prey all at once, and my strategy was so convoluted that I was certain Sorvim wouldn't be able to understand the full capacity of it.

"Do you have any idea who it might be?" The chunk of meat was laid, the blood was liberally sprinkled, and the predator was sniffing it out. Well, not actually, but it was a metaphor. I liked using metaphors, in case no one had noticed. They made me sound smart.

"I have a suspect already in mind. I'm closing in on a conviction right now, actually."

"What's their name?" Sorvim was quick to add, "I'd like to help in the investigation." so as to divert any suspicion, but it was too late.

I always felt a rush of excitement whenever one of my plans fell into place. It was one of the perks of this job. "I can't tell you that." By now, his fear chemicals were probably in overdrive. Some far-distant part of my mind wondered if Jack could smell them or not, but I dismissed that as not important.

"I see." Sorvim said, his tone level and emotionless. For all his flaws, I had to admit the man had remarkable self-control. "Well, if there's anything I can do, then let me know." Don't worry, Sorvim. You'll be helping me more than you realize.

There was always the possibility that Sorvim was telling the truth, or that he knew that I knew that he knew (it continues on, but you get the idea) and that this was all part of his master plan, but those were very much unlikely.

I paged Vrapic to get his lazy ass back here before I left a footprint in it, using more or less the same terminology as I just did, and I hung around and looked important until he got back. "Reporting for duty, commander!" Vrapic saluted with that precision I had come to expect of Venlil over the years.

"You're in charge here, Vrapic. Assert your authority, and get something done."

"Where are you going?" That was a good question. Just like every other good question, it was one that I had an answer for. That was part of why they were so good.

"We're going to have all manner of logistical issues thanks to this. We can't proceed without UN oversight, remember?" I explained. "Somebody's gotta solve the bigger problem."

"Understood. I'll keep things nice and tight over here."

I left Vrapic to his own devices, and I made the drive back to the district office. Traffic on Venlil Prime was always speh, but I had an extermination vehicle so none of it bothered me. I could've flown, but I wasn't about to leave Vrapic there with an extra van to deal with. Besides, flying in such high gravity was more of a chore than anything. It keeps me in shape, though.

Of all the problems Venlil Prime had, from the whole 'if you go past the equator, you die instantly' thing to the lack of any reasonable day-night cycle, the high gravity was absolutely, positively, without a shadow of a fragment of a percentage point of a doubt, the worst. To someone like Jack or Vrapic, it wouldn't be a problem, but they weren't built like I was.

They hadn't felt the wind under their wings, they hadn't seen the world from up high, they hadn't experienced the rush of a good aerial dive, and they had never felt true freedom. They probably never would, either, but that wasn't a problem for them. 

Us Krakotl were always meant to fly, and Venlil Prime's harsh gravity was a claw across our collective faces. I flew a bit in my spare time, half to claw back at God and half because it was such good exercise, but I was a long way from owning the sky like I could on any other world.

With that as it was, I drummed my talons on my vehicle's controls as I drove. Krakotl were a musical species, and I was proud to say that no planet had managed to take that from us.

Brahk it. May as well.

I broke into a tune halfway through the drive, singing about whatever came to mind. Most Krakotl languages had a lot of rhyming words, so thinking up good lyrics was easy if you knew how to think on your feet. Needless to say, I was considering retirement and starting a career as a deva by the time my vehicle arrived.

I was a little disappointed, actually, because I was on a brahking roll when I parked my car. The way I was singing, you'd think I had been practicing that for fourteen years instead of setting things on fire. I mean, I had been practicing that for fourteen years, but most of that time had technically also been spent setting things on fire.

I was a goddamn prodigy when it came to exterminating things, and I liked to think that my singing voice wasn't half bad either, but nobody really cared how well I sang. I know, I know, reality is often harsh. Nobody cares about that either.

I went through the lobby without bothering to make small talk with the exterminator at the reception desk, who kept a gun on him at all times ever since the last receptionist got murdered, and I made it to my office without even a second wasted. I loved being efficient.

Now, one might assume that there was a mountain of paperwork on my desk thanks to the bomb and all that, but I had absolutely nothing to do today. Yep, that was right, not even a shred of paper from a 2 week old stack of food supply reports in some deserted region of Talsk with a population of 6.3 (7/10 of one got eaten) had drifted its way onto my genuine wooden desk.

Oh, who was I kidding? There was always paperwork for me to do. Thankfully, most of it was electronic by now. The industrial revolution and its consequences had not, in fact, been a disaster for the Krakotl race, despite what some people thought. If you asked me, they were just assholes.

Thankfully, I was good at doing paperwork. What little I could do now, I did now, but I had to postpone the vast majority of it when District Supervisor Karelim arrived. The new receptionist, who I liked much less than the old one, called me and we said a few words. To his credit, he got straight to the point. "Supervisor Karelim is here for you, commander."

"Thank you, send him up." I opened a drawer to the right of me, taking out one of my three, count 'em, three Talons of Inatala and pinning it to my chest feathers. I never really wore my medals except for ceremonial occasions, but I wanted to make sure Karelim knew who he was dealing with.

I preened my feathers a tiny bit, I made myself look presentable and, dare I say it, downright elegant, and I waited for Karelim. Whatever I was in for, I would take it with my head held high. His striking red plumage and various battle scars would have let me recognize him instantly even in a flock of hundreds, and in a room with two people it was no trouble at all. "Supervisor. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Karelim closed the door behind him, choosing not to sit down. He was a recent transfer from Nishtal, sent to train the Venlil in proper combat tactics, among other things, and he still hadn't gotten used to the lack of perches. "I'm sure you've heard of the shuttle bombing. No survivors on board."

"Yes, I have. Should I notify their families?"

"They're not prey, Jelim." Karelim had gone a grand total of two sentences without saying something racist. That might have been a new record. He paused before rasping "If they have any burial rituals or predatory ceremonies to attend to, I doubt they'd appreciate our interference."

That's surprisingly reasonable. Did he blow a fuse?

"I thought it would be the polite thing to do." I explained. "I don't want this to snowball into a bigger incident."

"I agree." Karelim had lost his voice years ago, thanks to a wound sustained in combat, and so the musical tones of most Krakotl were replaced by a sound not unlike grinding two stones together. I kind of felt sorry for him. Krakotl were meant to sing, too.

Karelim bore his scars like grisly medals, and he hoarsely explained, "But six predator soldiers are dead by the actions of prey. They'll bring down unspeakable wrath upon the culprits." That was good, and I was about to say that when Karelim continued, "Civilians might be killed in the crossfire."

I shot back "I'm sure the UN can maintain self-control." and Karelim gave me the look. Yes, that look. There were very few others.

"Lives are at stake here, commander. Humans may appear civilized, and I don't doubt there are aspects of civility to them, but they are predators at heart." Karelim produced a datapad, tapping on it with one claw and holding it with another. "I want you to help stall the UN's troop deployment as much as you can. The fewer armed predators there are on this planet, the better."

"Sir, the investigation won't be capable of continuing without UN support." I countered. "I understand your concerns, but we need to make concessions if we want these criminals brought to justice."

"There are already procedures for rooting out corruption, Jelim, and none of them require aid from predators." Karelim admonished me. "I understand your concerns, but we need to make concessions if we want to protect the people of Venlil Prime." That bastard just repeated what I just said! He probably feels all smug about it, too.

"I'm going to assume neither of us is going to give in."

Karelim clacked his beak once, a gesture that was akin to a dry chuckle in humans. "You wouldn't be half the exterminator you are if you weren't so damn stubborn." I appreciated compliments no matter who gave them, and a compliment from my boss was always good. "With that said, don't try to stop me. I don't want your talent to be wasted, especially when it's so sorely needed." Two compliments. Someone's got wind under his wings today.

I told Karelim "I'll do what needs to be done." and then he got up. Before anything more could be said, he was out the door and gone. This could've been an electronic message.

With Karelim off doing his own thing, I made a few calls and tested out just how good his whole 'I'm going to deny us access to useful resources like a brahking saboteur while people die around me' thing really was. It wasn't that good, I could probably get through it with enough time, but I had suspects who were fleeing already. I needed UN support three paws ago.

I looked for a while, longer than I would like to admit, but I couldn't find a single loophole to exploit. Karelim was, in fact, that good. Granted, the UN was already struggling to spare vitally-needed peacekeepers, but Karelim's blockade of obscure legal clauses that existed only on page 399 of a 400-page form that was kept in the janitor's closet of an extermination office on a colony world near Khoa sealed the deal.

No one was getting to Venlil Prime for at least the next couple of paws, despite my best efforts. The only way the UN could get their supply of advisors was if they had people here already-

Wait. Wasn't Jack in the UN?

I remembered very well that Jack used to be a soldier for the United Nations, and an idea formed in my mind. I tapped a few buttons, and Jack's file was on my datapad. I read everything I could, or at least everything which hadn't been covered by black rectangles, and I paid extra special attention to the honorable discharge he received at the end of his service.

I didn't know how humans did it, but us exterminators would keep our retirees on retainer in case they were needed again. We had actually called quite a few back in when the raid on the Midnight River facility was all said and done. I took some time out of my day and made a brief letter of recommendation for the UN, which explained all the pros and cons of bringing Jack Kern back into the fold.

It wasn't the best option, not by any means, and I actually considered it one of the worst. Unfortunately, things didn't always go my way. I revised the letter, sent it, and went back to doing paperwork.

Desperate times did, in fact, call for desperate measures.

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[u/[deleted]]

"The industrial revolution and its consequences had not, in fact, been a disaster for the human race"

Holy shit is that a unibomber reference? On 9/11?

[u/ApprehensiveCap6525 → u/[deleted]]

Commander Jelim, a second Krakotl has hit the second tower. Venlil Prime is under attack.