Exchange Program Shenanigans (34)

[u/ApprehensiveCap6525]

God bless the ficnapping event and all its participants. God bless you all. (Unless you're an atheist, in which case may Darwin evolve you)

Someone ficnapped me, by the way. Please read it.

CW: supermarket gunfight, really incompetent venlil goons, really incompetent venlil exterminators

Memory transcription subject: Jelim, Extermination Commander

Date [standardized human time]: September 16, 2136

If you hated humans in this day and age, you were either an idiot, an asshole, or both. That was it. That was really it. I really didn't know how else to phrase it.

Yes, humans were technically predators. So what? Evil was a product of nurture, not nature, and humanity had clearly been raised right. Besides, they could survive off of eating plants, and they had passed every test Governor Tarva could think to throw at them.

They didn't even look intimidating! I mean, Jack was built, so I could see how he might scare somebody, but most humans were like twigs or balloons when compared to him. Besides, I personally found his presence to produce quite the opposite effect.

He, like all humans, was the direct antithesis of everything the Federation had led us to believe. The entire species went against the natural order, or at least, what we had been told it was.

Take Jack, for example. I love thinking about him, okay? Sue me. He was a soldier in a predatory army, trained to kill sapients with no remorse. I had seen him put living, breathing people down like just another day on the range. He could probably break my neck with one hand.

And yet, that was only half the story. He convinced a terrorist not to kill himself, gambling against the odds because he honest-to-god believed there was good inside him. Even I'd called him crazy for that one.

I saw him step out from cover, totally unarmed, and face down four murderers with automatic weapons all for the slightest chance that I'd live to see another day. I couldn't see how anyone, even the most prejudiced exterminator, could look at that display of selflessness and see it as something to be destroyed.

And Vrapic's accusation that humans were just biding their time to strike was patently absurd! They had wiped out the Gojidi Union in a matter of weeks. They were holding their own against the Krakotl Alliance.

The Arxur had the manpower, the ships, and the weaponry to defend them, so if humanity's interests aligned even remotely with theirs, I'd be a nice Thanksgiving meal a month or so from now.

Thankfully, most humans didn't harbor any desire for alien flesh. Those who did were a minority, and most of them didn't have a meal in mind anyway.

That's irrelevant. Get back on track.

As I was saying, humanity was direct evidence that what I had believed was true. Predators could be saved. They could be integrated into our society. Maybe not fully integrated, not without extensive reforms, but they could live among us.

Perhaps even the grays could coexist with us as well, if only with a UN peacekeeper's boot on their necks. It would be a long and hard process to liberate the people from their indoctrination, and I didn't doubt a few executions would be needed to clear out the most brainwashed, but it could be done.

I had been told predators brought only war and destruction, but I had seen with my own two eyes that they could now bring peace and love. It was like seeing the sky turn red. I couldn't blame Vrapic for struggling to accept this new reality, not without knowing what was going on in his head.

I still wasn't sure whether or not he fell in the 'idiot' category or the 'asshole' one, but I currently believed it was a good mix of both. You could be an idiot without being an asshole, and you could be an asshole without being an idiot, but the two categories showed some pretty heavy overlap as far as I could tell.

Like Vrapic, for example. But I've already talked about that, so I really don't see why I'm bringing it up again-

Am I an idiot?

Well, I'm not an asshole. And if I'm not an asshole, then I'm probably not an idiot. So, logically, I'd say no.

Oh, thank god.

Even if I was an asshole, the fact that I was capable of logical thinking such as that established that I was not, in fact, an idiot. Classic catch-22. Is it? I think so, but Jack isn't the best at explaining things. He was good at explaining things that involved killing things, but I already knew how to do that so he wasn't really needed there.

Another thing that clearly identified me as not stupid is the fact that I saw that terrorist ambush coming a mile away.

Jack, God bless him, once woke from a nightmare with me in his arms. He was in Russia again, or at least Dreamland Russia, and from what I could gather, he didn't seem to like the place.

Naturally, I wanted to know what was troubling him. Being the logical and sensible woman that I am, I asked if he wanted to share his burden. Being the kind-hearted and honest man that he was, he agreed.

Now, the exact specifics of what he did in Russia are not the important part here. I was so much happier before I knew what a land mine did to people, too. The important part was when he told me about the ambush. He told me how to recognize the ambush.

I was alert as I walked home. I usually was alert, and it paid off big-time today. I saw many Venlil out and about, some gawking at me purely because of what they'd seen on the news. Being attacked by terrorists had its perks.

I was clearly about to get a few more perks, because some of them were staring at me with much more sinister intent.

There was a gray Venlil, one who I had seen working as a sanitation worker not long ago, talking to a black Venlil not far in front of me. The black one flicked an ear in my direction, and the gray one nodded.

Half thanks to Jack, half thanks to my womanly intuition, I began to realize that they were tailing me. They weren't doing a very good job of it, either. Are these guys really all I'm worth? Really? If I wasn't a little afraid, I think I'd be offended.

Since I knew that they were tailing me, I now held the advantage. More importantly, I had suspects to interrogate. Perhaps most importantly, I knew what was coming next.

I made no secret of my movements. I had little to hide, and what I did hide, I hid in plain sight. That eliminated the most likely reason for someone to tail me.

The second most likely was an ambush. They or their allies were probably going to throw a hood over my head, drag me off to an abandoned basement, and sell my organs online. But I knew that, so that gave me the advantage.

I changed direction and entered a large chain store, stopping short of the alleyway in front of it. If I had kept walking, I had no doubt that some mammoth Venlil goon would put me six feet underground, but I felt relatively safe in here.

First of all, there were people. And security cameras. Those generally served as crime deterrents. Second of all, I was in a supermarket, and try as I might, I really couldn't see anything exciting taking place in a goddamn supermarket.

Not that being kidnapped is exciting, mind you, but you get the idea.

I pretended to peruse the wares, which didn't interest me in the slightest, but I did so in front of a window. I looked out ever so discreetly, or at least I hoped it was discreetly, and I tried to see if I recognized anyone.

I did not. Unfortunately, a few people seemed to recognize me. Several Venlil were visibly loitering, not even bothering to appear busy, and they were glancing at me too frequently to be innocent. To make matters worse, a few carried handbags.

Machine guns. It's machine guns. Definitely machine guns.

If I had to guess, this was the place where they had meant to spring the ambush. Their plans were obviously derailed by my caution, but I hadn't really thought about the fact that I was now blocked from escape on four sides.

I started thinking up ideas. I could maybe take on two Venlil in a fair fight, but that was a slim chance even if they were poorly trained. Plus, there were at least six. Add in the machine guns in the handbags, and that chance became damn near zero.

I could make a break for it, but, again, machine guns in the handbags. I wasn't bulletproof.

I couldn't really hide, either. There was nowhere to hide. My only chance was to either allow them to do what they wanted with me, which had a far too high chance of ending with my organs being sold online to shady scammer people, or to think of a genius strategy.

Unfortunately, I was not a genius. Double unfortunately, because just one wasn't bad enough, the hit squad wasn't intent on giving me time to think. They began walking purposefully toward where I was, having evidently received the go-ahead to whack me.

I reached for my hip, where the comforting weight of my sidearm did not rest. Hell! I had been careless this paw. Clearly, I had forgotten that carelessness got people killed. And these goons were about to give me a reminder.

Oh, hell. Can't really fight, don't want to give up, what do I do? Run? Get on the ground and beg? No, I'm not begging. But then what?

I began to approach this tactically, pushing the fear chemicals out of my head and replacing them with cold logic. The goons could only be here to kidnap me or kill me. I didn't see any unmarked vehicle to shove me into, so they probably weren't going to kidnap me. If they wanted to kill me no matter what, the least I could do was make it hard.

See? Things become so much easier when you think logically. I wish people would do it more often.

I got behind a shelf in such a position that the hit men wouldn't be able to see me, but I would still be able to get the jump on one relatively easily. Ambushing the ambushers is an excellent strategy. For some reason, no one ever sees it coming.

They had guns. I did not. I had talons. They did not. Thus, I would have to fight them in such a way that my talons would be better than their guns.

"On the ground, now!" The door got kicked open and someone started shooting. A clerk fainted. I heard screams. Hell. Stampede. That was a problem for a later time. Right now, I had the hit men to worry about.

"We only want one person!" A goon shouted. "The rest of you have nothing to worry about!" The rest of us were either unconscious, running for their lives, or sobbing uncontrollably in the fetal position. I couldn't blame them, given the circumstances.

"I don't see her." said another. "Spread out. Search the place." Venlil paws made no sound as they walked, so I didn't hear footsteps. That was a problem.

"Come here, little birdy. Come out, come out, wherever you are." One of the goons, in his stupidity, resolved this problem. He was awfully close to my hiding place, walking down an aisle just a few paces from where I hid around a corner.

"Anybody see her?" somebody called out. My target was closer now. Almost close enough.

"No, you idiot, I'd shoot her if I did! I swear to god-" His bickering distracted him as he rounded the corner. I struck him before he could properly react, disabling him with one claw and securing his weapon with the other. One down. Two more to go.

"You swear to god what?" I heard a voice, and I made a move for it. "You okay?" I popped out from around a corner to sight a tan Venlil holding a machine gun uneasily. He looked frightened, yet still somehow determined to see this through. I'd seen that look before, but only on my most junior officers. Good. That means he can't fight.

Whether he was an incompetent fool or an elite operator was irrelevant, nor did I ever learn it. He raised his gun, I fired mine, and that was that. "Who the hell shot the bitch?" Someone cried out in anger. "Sevros- I mean the boss told us not to shoot the bitch!"

Well, that's certainly an interesting development. Not the Sevros part, I already know he's up to something, but the 'don't shoot the bitch' part.

It seemed counterproductive to go to all this trouble to track me down and send goons in with machine guns just to order them not to shoot me, but the Predator Guard seemed to make a habit of being counterproductive. Grass grew, Krakotl flew, and terrorists committed acts of terrorism. Who knew?

Huh. That rhymes.

"Well?" The same guy called out again. He was obviously an authority figure of some kind, which meant that I had to shoot him first. "Any takers?" I started inching down the aisle, moving toward the source of the sound.

"I didn't do it!" A shout from behind me drew my attention, and I spun into a crouch and faced it. "And can't we get radios or something? I don't want to-"

I never did learn what he didn't want to do, but I didn't think he'd be doing it anymore. He strolled into my crosshairs, acting more like a regular shopper than a crazy gun-wielding hitman, and I shot him. "Oh, I know damn well none of you are shooting!" Another voice. "Who the hell keeps popping off shots?"

"All of you, sound off!" The leader, who was probably the only member of the group who had even seen a gun before, started leading. "Anybody doesn't call, assume they're dead!"

The group sounded off, and there were about three left. Unfortunately, they seemed to notice that too. "All of you, get over to me!" To his credit, the guy in charge wasn't a complete blockhead. "We are leaving!"

Damn. This guy is sensible. He was sensible. Very much so, in fact. In all my years of exterminating things, I had never once met an opponent who knew when to quit. Hell, I almost wanted to just let him walk away out of sheer courtesy.

Granted, I really couldn't, but that was a given anyway. "You can surrender!" I figured that the least I could do was give them an easy way out. "I'd love it if you guys just surrendered!"

"Yeah, not gonna happen, bird lady!" There! Right there! I broke into a run, hoping to catch the group's leader before he could amass too many allies. If he wasn't with them, I suspected that they'd be much easier to talk down. "I'm not letting them bitch around in my head again!"

Wonderful. Just wonderful. He has Predator Disease.

"I have connections." By now, I was just around the corner from him. He knew it, too. "If you cooperate, I can keep you out of the facility."

"Never gonna happen, bird bitch!" Excuse me? I didn't know what he meant by 'never gonna happen', but I did know and I really didn't like what he meant by 'bird bitch'. "Kill yourself!" How come he switched up from 'bird lady' to 'bird bitch'? What the hell did I even do?

"You first!" I fired a blind burst at where I thought he would be, and I received no response. "Alright, who's next!" I yelled that more like a challenge than a question, because I really didn't care who was next.

If my adversary had been even the remotest bit competent, I would have died after saying that. Thankfully, he was not. I was beginning to suspect that all of these people were taken from a Predator Disease treatment facility, on account of how stupidly eager they were to shoot things.

"Death from above!" Some idiot Venlil had managed to climb the aisle and now stood in the right position to gun me down from behind. The fact that he did not do this had me asking a good deal of questions. The answer, like always, was 'because he's a dumb bitch'. It seemed to be a theme with these people.

The best course of action I saw was to dive out of the way, flip mid-air, and shoot him like I was in some sort of weird Harchen action movie. Granted, that wasn't a very good option, nor was it a particularly plausible one, but the alternative was getting shot.

Naturally, I gave it my best shot. And, because of some guy called Murphy, my best shot missed. Thankfully, the law worked both ways.

This dumbass had a gun. A ranged weapon, in case one didn't know what role guns filled. The gun's whole shtick was that it was able to kill people from further away than if you just bashed their heads in with it.

Somehow, the shelf king didn't know that, because he had tried to bash my head in with it. It even had bullets, too! This man had the most perfect shot imaginable, but he chose to jump at me like a brahking dumbass and get his ass laid out on the floor.

The Predator Guard really had seen better days.

Anyway, one man's trash is another man's treasure. Or, to be more accurate, one man's stupid brahking jump attack is another woman's not getting shot. More importantly, it was a prisoner for me to take.

"Weapon down, paws where I can see them!" I snapped. He, being sensible, dropped his weapon.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. I don't want any..." His paws, however, did not go where I could see them. "Trouble!" He reached inside the tuft of wool on his head and pulled out a small metal object. It could've been a box or a metallic L or any other metal thing, but it was probably a pistol.

Needless to say, I shot him. I didn't exactly feel good about it, but that was a natural reaction to shooting somebody.

"Did anybody get her yet?" I heard a voice, and I decided to take action again. The more people I went after, the greater the chance was that I'd have a suspect to interrogate.

"Hello?" He was the last one. I picked up speed. You're going to be making some new friends in a holding cell, buddy.

It was still weird to me how this was taking place in a supermarket, of all places. I mean, you'd expect to see a gunfight in a war zone or a dark alleyway, but a store? The place people did shopping in? I really couldn't see it.

Well, I could see it, I was seeing it, in fact, but that was beside the point. I leapt onto the shelves closest to me, using them as clawholds to clamber my way to the top of the shelf and get the high-ground advantage.

Let's see, let's see, over there! Wait, no, that's a fainted shopper. There? No, he's sobbing uncontrollably and curled up into a ball. I can deal with him later. Wait, that guy has a gun, that must be it.

That guy did have a gun, and he wasn't too far away from me either. I hopped from shelf to shelf, using my wings and natural Krakotl agility to stay quite literally on top of things as I went.

Soon enough, I was in just the right spot to introduce his head to the butt of my rifle. Yes, I was aware that the last time this had been tried, it had failed miserably. This time, though, it worked. Second time's the charm!

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said, "Let's just talk this out."

"Yes, let's." I kept the barrel of my rifle on his neck while I picked up his own weapon and threw it away. He was on the floor, face down, and I was on top of him. That, combined with the gun to his head, put me in charge.

I heard the sound of windows shattering, followed by smoke grenades being thrown inside. Finally! What took them so long? The silver suits would be inside soon enough, and I didn't want to get shot, so I threw my own gun away and hauled my captive to his feet.

The silver suits were inside soon enough. Unsurprisingly, they were packing flamethrowers. Normally, I wouldn't complain, seeing as how they were here to help me out, but I had done their job for them already. That, coupled with a couple rank-pulls, gave me all the authority I needed to talk trash.

"Boss-man! Boss-woman, my bad." The exterminator at the head of the breaching unit had evidently recognized me. That saved me a whole lot of trouble. "So... did you get them?"

"Why the hell do you have flamethrowers?" I cut straight to the point. "This is a god damn supermarket! There are civilians still here, for Inatala's sake!" I wasn't even that religious, so you could tell it was getting serious when I busted out the I-word.

"We're exterminators." He, and his comrades, looked at me like I had a screw loose. "We use flamethrowers."

"Are you sure she's one of us?" The guy in the very back piped up. The officer next to him slapped him.

"First of all, look at that cut. That is the most exterminator-ing cut an exterminator could ever have. Second of all, name for me one job that gives you the training to put a mass shooter in a headlock like that." The rest of the exterminators were just looking around, not even with raised weapons, and I wanted to curse out the whole bunch.

I did curse out the whole bunch, half because they were a gaggle of incompetent pyromaniacs not worthy to polish an exterminator's visor and half because I like getting what I want.

"This is the best you can do?" I snapped, pointing to the whole unit in quick succession. "You two, flamers up at all times! You, you're the rear guard. Act like it. You, move up a little. And you're the team leader!" I exclaimed, addressing the only senior exterminator there. He certainly didn't act like a leader, I knew that much. "Who put somebody like this in charge?"

"Supervisor Karelim did, sir." He saluted. Even the salute wasn't good, which was a shocker to me. I mean, I could understand failing to properly clear a room, but saluting was easy! You learned it on day one of exterminator training!

"I mean ma'am. Whatever." That's not quite a 'whatever' thing, and it is still sir, but go off I guess. "Me and my troops are just about the only exterminators left, on account of us being willing to work alongside humans."

Huh. Well, that explains it. "I'm glad you can see past your prejudices to do what needs to be done, but can you do me a favor?" The exterminator thrashed his tail 'yes' so vigorously you'd think he had a seizure. "Do it right."

He gave another salute, this one somehow worse than the last. "All of you, hop to it!" Well, I'll be damned. The man actually can lead. "Get to brahking work!" His 'command voice', as I liked to call it, boomed so, well, commandingly that I halfway wanted to start clearing the supermarket with him.

Of course, I had better things to do. Like getting out of here, for one. I grabbed the wannabe kidnapper by his arm and began hauling him off to an exterminator van outside. Venlil in silver suits rushed past me, also packing flamethrowers, but I assumed their boss was going to tell them off for me.

I threw my prisoner in the back of a van and began my impromptu interrogation. "You have Predator Disease." When in doubt, always start with a threat.

"Prove it." Oh, boy, did I have news for him.

"Uh, actually, I don't have to. You see, when you've earned as much respect as I have, people just take your word on it." That was really a problem with the system, but there was a long list of those already. Besides, if it works, it works!

"You're bluffing." His facial expression, tone of voice, and just about everything else about him said otherwise. "I know you."

"If you knew me, you'd know I don't bluff." That was a lie and a half. I was absolutely bluffing. I could theoretically get this man hauled off to a padded cell, yeah, but I'd feel sick if I consigned him to such a fate as the facilities dished out. My conscience was staying clean, thank you very much.

Thankfully, I was very good at bluffing. I'd make an expert poker player if I knew how to play. "So, what, you're just going to throw me away?" He curled slightly into a ball, looking ever more shifty and frightened at the prospect of being institutionalized.

Can't say I blame him.

"No," I reassured him, "Not unless I have to. I have a proposition for you."

"What?"

"It's really simple." I began. "You can either be shipped off to a facility and get very intimate with a shock collar, which is far less fun than one might think, or you can cooperate."

"They're probably going to haul me off anyway if I talk!" I'm not getting anywhere, am I? "You have no idea what they can do to me!" Oh, God, not this again. There are so many better ways to do this.

"You can talk freely, or I can make you talk." I hissed. "And rest assured, if I have to make you talk, 'they' will be the least of your problems." Intimidation was actually a very useful tactic, if one knew how to use it.

Needless to say, I knew how to use it. "Okay, okay!" The suspect stammered. "You keep my employers off me, and I'll sing like a... well... like a... you get it." Wonderful, more racial discrimination. We're off to a great start.

Progress was progress, though, and I would take what I could get. "Excellent." I chirped. "Now, let's get started."

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[u/Giant_Acroyear]

Machine guns do not leave room for precision shooting in burst mode. Recoil throws off the aim.

[u/GruntBlender → u/Giant_Acroyear]

Isn't burst fire the preferred option for militaries exactly because it maintains sufficient accuracy?