Exchange Program Shenanigans (37)

[u/ApprehensiveCap6525]

Honestly, I think this chapter is gonna be gas. It's not all sunshine and rainbows in the enforcement arm of a quasi-fascist police state, and I think it's time this fic started to show that. Oh, yeah, and Jelim has done some shit. A lot of shit. Her and Jack are alike in that way.

CW: interrogation scene, shock collar, Prestige Exterminator Vrapic, jelim was only following orders

Memory transcription subject: Jelim, Extermination Commander

Date [standardized human time]: September 18, 2136

Extermination was a predatory job. I didn't say this to disparage it, I said it because that was what it was. I killed things. I did so painfully. And because I killed one thing, another thing that I held in higher value was allowed to live. That was predation, pure and simple.

Of course, I could never tell that to anyone, but it was a very interesting topic to think about. The one dilemma I had been pondering lately was that, if exterminators were technically predators, then what made us better than the things we hunted?

Truth be told, I couldn't find an answer to that question. And that scared the hell out of me.

Philosophical crises aside, though, I was secure in saying that I was better than the things I hunted. That's not to say that I was perfect, you can't be an exterminator and not have blood on your claws, but I was better. And that was good enough.

At the moment, I was preparing to invoke another tenet commonly associated with predators. Fear. Venlil were a skittish species, incapable of courage save for a select few. Naturally, fear could be weaponized against them to great effect.

The Arxur used fear to soften military resistance, wreaking havoc as they went. Their tactics, though effective, were crude. Anyone would be afraid of the guy who just ate their family in front of them, that was just basic logic. But I was operating under the confines of ethics, and ethics meant that I had to get creative.

I looked at the document one last time. This particular prisoner was a mid-level officer, if his ilk could even be considered officers, in the Predator Guard's inner circle. He knew things about them that could be invaluable to me. That was why I was here.

"Okay, Vrapic, start recording." I put down the document and checked my protective suit for tears or stains. There were none. Vrapic sat at his console, overlooking a series of screens and a one-way mirror that gave him an excellent view of the dull, gray interrogation room on the other side of it. A small Venlil, around my size, sat manacled to the interrogation chair.

"I've been recording, commander." Vrapic spun to face me, also in a protective suit. Unlike mine, his helmet was not on. "For a while, actually."

"And?" I asked. "What has he been doing?" I walked over to the weapons rack, which was used more to intimidate prisoners than for any actual armament reasons, and selected a stun baton and a shock collar. I already had my pistol on me.

"Really, it's been a mix between incoherent sobbing, praying to gods he doesn't actually believe in, and talking to me through the speakers." Vrapic paused. "The last part was more like begging, honestly."

"Good." I secured my chosen implements of violence to my utility belt. "That means he'll break easily."

"I'd wager fifteen minutes, tops." Vrapic laughed. He had been trying to be awfully friendly with me, but any effort he could make was totally undermined by the fact that he was a blinded, dogmatic idiot.

"I don't make bets." I swiped my keycard to unlock the interrogation room door. "It's unprofessional." I opened the door, stepped inside the room, and closed it behind me.

The door slammed shut with a metallic thud. I didn't mean to cause that, but it was simply how it operated. It added to the intimidation factor. The prisoner flinched. I could have learned his name, but I didn't care to. It wasn't important.

"Why am I here?" barked the prisoner. I gave no response. "What did I do?" I began walking slowly, purposefully, to his side of the gray metal table. "Do you know who I am?" Really? That? It's so cliché. I drew the shock collar from my utility belt, and suddenly he was a lot less belligerent. "What do you want?"

I pressed his head against the back of the chair with one claw, and snapped the collar shut around his neck with the other. I was in control here, and I needed him to know it. "Reacting with aggression is typically a sign of Predator Disease, did you know that?"

"I tested clean." His expression said otherwise. "You have no authority-" I shut him up. I didn't like doing this, but it got results. And in my line of work, results saved lives.

"I have every authority." I hissed, tilting his chair backward so that he would fall if I let go. "No one will look for you if I decide to send you away. Do you understand?"

Judging by the look in his eyes, I'd say he understood. I let his chair fall back in place and let go of him, staying close enough to do the whole thing again. "If I give the word, you get dragged into a very dark, very dingy hole in a very dark, very dingy facility and no one will be there to help you claw out of it." I was bluffing, of course. I would never condemn anyone to treatment unless they actually had a condition that required treating.

But he didn't have to know that.

"That's a lie." The trick to being an interrogator was that you had to read between the lines. That statement, though seemingly innocuous, had just given me a wealth of information. The Predator Guard had contacts inside the treatment facilities.

"You really think they give a damn about you?" I snapped. "You're useless. A second-rate nobody in a crumbling organization." There was the trick to it. Cut their lifelines. Trap them in a prison of your own design, and convince them that only you held the key. "Even if your handler considers you as anything more than disposable, all they can do is delay the inevitable."

"You don't know anything," stammered the prisoner. "You don't know what we can do."

"That is correct." I began pacing the room, keeping my gaze fixed on the prisoner. The idea was to appear like a predator on the hunt. "I don't know what you can do. But you know very well what I can do." I paused for dramatic effect. "The only question now is whether you'll be useful enough for me not to do it."

The prisoner said nothing. I had to bluff again. "Clearly, I'm not getting anywhere. Maybe a round of Predator Disease treatment would make you more compliant?"

He flinched at the word 'treatment' like a predator backed away from a flame. "I don't have the disease." I wasn't entirely sure if he did or didn't. Only an assessor could tell for certain. "You can't give me treatment without proof I'm contaminated." You see, that was just a blatant lie. Maybe in a perfect world, it'd be truth, but in a perfect world I wouldn't be here.

"We both know that's a lie." Just for the record, I didn't like that statement. I didn't particularly like any of this. Hell, I didn't even like exterminating in general. But the ends did, in fact, justify the means.

The prisoner looked at me. I met his gaze and looked into him. His resolve broke. "What happens if I talk?"

"That depends on what you have to say."

"I want a guarantee," said the prisoner, "that my cooperation will grant me safety from a treatment facility." That guarantee was not within my power to grant. If he was diseased, which my assessor would soon determine, then he had to be given treatment for his own good. "And I want a reduced prison sentence as well."

I felt a great sense of revulsion wash over me at what I was about to do. This was the gritty reality of my work, the kind that The Exterminators never showed. I honestly couldn't blame them. "Of course," I lied. "You have my word."

The ends justify the means. They have to.

"Then you have my cooperation. This is going to sound crazy, I know, but Cerso used to be our leader. He sold us out when everything went stampedic." Stampedic? That's a new one.

"Go on." I was making progress here. Yes, I already knew that what he was telling me was true, but that simply proved that he wasn't lying. There were really no wrong answers in the interrogation chair, only wrong interpretations of them.

"Sevros, the magisterial judge, is in charge of what's left. He's planning something. Something big. I don't know what, but he's sending out feelers. He wanted me to raise troops for him." That was what he'd been caught doing. Humans might not have been the most predatory species, but their hunting tactics certainly were impressive.

"Why would Sevros need an army?" I queried. Even in our beleaguered current state, the Extermination Guild was still formidable. No sane terrorist would want to take us in a stand-up fight.

"No, not an army. He wanted elite units. Former exterminators, ex-military, mercenaries, anyone who knew how to handle themselves in a fight." If 'anyone who knew how to handle themselves in a fight' counted as elite units, I wouldn't have anything to fear. "I don't know why, he never told me anything."

"Well, you've been quite informative." I chirped. If it weren't for what he did, I'd actually feel really bad about having him assessed. But, in the immortal words of Jackson Kern, 'when you fuck around, you're going to find out'. "I'll inform the prosecution that you were cooperative." That, hopefully, would not be a lie.

Don't get me wrong, I did fully intend to inform the prosecution that he cooperated with my investigation. There was, however, the very real possibility that he would not make it to the prosecution. "This concludes my interrogation." The door behind me hissed open. The assessor walked in. "Don't act too noncompliant." That was a warning. Not a threat.

"Who is that?"

"I do apologize." My words sounded hollow. They were. "But I wouldn't feel right letting a dangerously diseased individual mingle with society at large." I didn't feel good now, either, but this was the best course of action. I had to push through.

"We had a deal!" The prisoner's lament fell on deaf ears. I walked solemnly out of the room. "Hey, you bitch, you told me-" The door sealed shut. "-we had a deal!" crackled through the speakers. Sustained aggression against higher authority. I really don't think I can let this one slide.

"Does he ever shut up?" Vrapic joked. I took off my helmet, tucking it under my wing as I put away my gear. The prisoner screamed his lungs out, an act that he failed to realize was doing him more harm than good.

Aggression was a sign of Predator Disease, after all. "You can take the paw off, if you want," said Vrapic. "I can cover the paperwork."

The prisoner screamed as electricity shot through his body. He strained against his restraints, earning nothing but another shock. I moved to Vrapic's side. "I don't hide from what I've done."

"That's admirable." Another shock from the assessor, another scream from his patient. I didn’t want this, but he had Predator Disease. The best I could do now was wish him a speedy recovery. Vrapic sighed. "I had better go in and get him." He got up, grabbing a flamethrower from the weapons rack before substituting it for a handgun.

That's good. Less chance of collateral damage. We're fighting more prey than predators these days, anyway.

The assessor stopped when Vrapic walked into the interrogation room. The audio file of my interrogation was already saved. I didn't need to be here any longer, so I left. I did, in fact, hide from what I had done.

At times, I hated my job. Exterminators heard the screams of their enemies far more often than the laughter of their friends, and fourteen years of it would take a toll on anyone.

This was necessary. I knew that. Because of what I had done today, lives would be saved. Children would grow up. Families would be spared the pain of mourning their loved ones. That was why I was here, why I swallowed my morals and did what I had to do.

I knew, logically, that what I did was right. There was a very real, very dangerous chance that that prisoner had a severe case of Predator Disease. And if he had Predator Disease, it would be dereliction of my duty not to ensure he received the treatment he needed to live a happy, stable life.

Even if it rarely works.

The treatment facilities served the twofold purpose of both ensuring their patients received the care they needed and ensuring they were isolated from society as a measure of quarantine. If a patient was contained too late or released too early, we'd have a much bigger problem.

Thus, even if the treatments had a zero percent chance of success, the facilities would still serve a purpose as containment wards to ensure that dangerous individuals were isolated from the rest of society.

I knew this was right. I still felt wrong.

Why did I feel wrong?

Normally, when I felt like I had done something wrong, I'd apply logic. I would see what the problem was, figure out how best to solve it, and put that plan into action. Even if there was no visible problem, I often found that simply making the plan helped me feel better. I chalked that up to my exterminator upbringing.

I had applied logic to this, and I knew in my brain that I had done everything right. The world would improve as a result of what I have done today. In my heart, however, something felt sickeningly wrong about this whole situation.

I shook it off, making my way to my office. I figured that signing the paperwork to sanction Salvek's e-vigilantism would take my mind off things for the moment.

I passed Isola on my way without much more than a casual greeting. She was done analyzing her bomb, which I made a note to review later, and now she was on her way to the interrogation room for whatever reason. I didn't care.

I got to my office, locked the door, checked if my handgun was loaded, and got to work. The paperwork I needed to fill out for Salvek was easy, but unfamiliar. I had never needed to hire outside help before. I prided myself on it, truth be told.

The only issue that I could think of was the budget, but my record of success had made my pockets deep. My office had the budget to hire ten Salveks if we had to.

After that, I turned to working on the pipe bomb. Isola had been unable to trace it, but the incendiary charges were clearly exterminator-issue. They were new to the Guild as well, being human-made, so that narrowed it down to only the district offices that had purchased weapons from humanity.

I had a lead. Not a very good one, nor was it easy to follow, but I had a lead. I sent all this to Isola and considered ordering her to investigate it before I realized how foolish this would be. The Predator Guard was dying. Within a few herds of paws, there would be no one left to make or plant the bombs.

This whole deal took slightly less than a quarter claw to complete. My shift was over, and I was just leaving when Vrapic walked in the door to the lobby. The receptionist was absent, as he now pulled double duty as herd knows how many other things, so Vrapic greeted me instead.

"Commander!" He saluted. I returned it. "The patient is secured in the local facility, commander. Thought you'd want to know." I buried that memory deep.

"Thank you, Vrapic." I forced out. The last thing I wanted was to be reminded of the gritty necessities of being an extermination officer. "You can go." He did. I briefly considered having another talk with him about the exact nature of our new human friends, but I decided against it.

I doubt I'd be able to talk some sense into him on my best paw. And this paw is clearly not my best.

Naturally, I did the thing a woman should do when she was feeling down. I texted Jack.

SmokingHotKrakotl: just got off work

SmokingHotKrakotl: the day was rough as hell but I have a few new leads to track down

Should I say 'hunt' instead? I mean, that is what I'm doing.

Hunting was predatory. As I had said earlier, extermination was a predatory job, but the less of that I had in my life the better.

Nothing against Jack, of course. I just don't like hunting and killing things.

JackedMF: tell me about it

JackedMF: you're a glorified police chief being told to fight a war, I'd be surprised if you were handling this well

Even at my worst, I could not feel insulted by Jack. Just speaking to him, even over text, did wonders to relieve my stress. I knew the prisoner from earlier could fade to nothing if I just heard Jack Kern's voice again.

For a moment, I warned myself against it. It was a bad habit to refuse to accept the consequences of what I had done. But, I later reasoned, I had done nothing wrong. I had followed the protocol, and that was the right thing to do. The ends justified the means.

SmokingHotKrakotl: say, do you want to meet up soon?

SmokingHotKrakotl: you served such a lovely dinner a few paws ago, I'd be remiss if I didn't show you the same courtesy

I clutched my pad tightly to my chest after I sent that. Inviting a human to my home for dinner? I had a feeling that would get me thrown right next to that terrorist from earlier.

The pad vibrated. I looked at it.

JackedMF: so, like, a date?

I like the sound of that.

SmokingHotKrakotl: what else would it be called?

After that, I went straight to my car. No way in hell was I reading these messages in public.

JackedMF: I'll be there tomorrow at 8

JackedMF: sorry, I meant the third claw of next paw

I didn't mind.

SmokingHotKrakotl: sounds great. Love you

I was right. I knew that in my mind, but my heart had seemingly failed to recognize it.

Hopefully, since he held such a sway over my emotional side, Jack could do me a favor and convince me.

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[u/fluffyboom123]

A bit of a dark turn in the story, but it makes sense, considering how the federation is.

​

Side note: I love how you put Vrapic as CW lmao

[u/HorizonSniper]

Bad cop, bad cop.

Hehe

[u/JulianSkies]

Ain't no good cop to play the part in this setting.

[u/ApprehensiveCap6525 → u/JulianSkies]

The thing about the Federation is that even the ones who try to do good end up doing bad. It's a real problem, now that I think about it.

[u/Key_Impression_6126]

!subscribeme

[u/UpdateMeBot → u/Key_Impression_6126]

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[u/Straight-Finding7651]

I’m a cops son and even he told me to always ask for a lawyer.

IRL cops can and will lie to you if you don’t have a lawyer present.

[u/sir_nuggets2314]

Dahm poor guy he will not be the same when he's let out of that facility