The Privateer

"What's this?" Scarrend Scathach gave Mims and Yvian an appraising look. The Vrrl was dressed for training. He wore his leather skirt, but his vest and cape made of scalps were absent. He'd also taken to wearing black shorts under the skirt, thank the Bright Lady. "Were we not training hand to hand today?"

Yvian was once again taken aback by the sheer size of the monster. Over three meters tall, weighing in at three hundred kilograms, the man's shoulders were as broad as Yvian was tall. Scarrend's upper arms were wider than Yvian's waist, and muscles bulged and rippled under his fur. It was annoying. Yvian had worked really hard for her muscles. The Vrrl didn't need to exercise at all.

"We are." Captain Mims was in his voidarmor. He'd donned his helmet and sealed the suit just before Scarrend entered Training Room 4. Yvian was in her armor as well, per the Captain's request. Kilroy stood to the side in his usual suit. The machine insisted on being on hand for training. Kilroy was certain there'd be a fatal accident without him.

"Then why are you armored when I am not?" A hint of amusement curled the Vrrl's lips. "Have I finally succeeded in teaching you fear, Scargiver?"

Mims ignored the jibe. "We're doing something different today." He walked over to the far side of the room. Training Room 4 was less a room and more a walled off section of the Random Encounter's cargo bay. The other rooms had been built for humans, and the ceilings were too low to accommodate a Vrrl's full range of motion. The Captain opened one of the cabinets that had been built into the bulkhead and extracted a small brown box. "But we'll get to that in a minute."

Mims walked back to Scarrend. "I have something for you."

"A present?" Scarrend took the box from the Captain's hands. It was long and thin, made of wood. Something had been done to the material that made it smooth and reflective. He raised two of his eyebrows at the human. "It is not my Birthing Day."

"It's not a gift," said the Captain. "Open it."

The Vrrl eyed the human for a moment longer, then unlatched the box. Inside was a folded strip of fabric. Thick. Blue. Scarrend pulled it out. "A belt?"

"A Blue Belt," Mims corrected. His voice turned formal. "Scarrend Scathach, you have demonstrated dedication and competence in the Way of the Scargiver. Blue is the color of the sky, a symbol of insight, enlightenment, and of reaching to greater heights. This belt is neither a prize nor a gift. It is simply an acknowledgement. Recognition of the skill and mastery you have earned for and within yourself. Wear it with pride, or do not. The skill remains." The human place a fist against his palm in front of his chest and bowed. "Congratulations."

Scarrend stared at the man, then looked down at the belt in his hands. "Excuse me a moment," he said, voice thick. He turned his back and walked out of the room.

"Do I get a belt?" Yvian asked.

"If you want one," said Mims. He shrugged. "I don't do the belts when I'm training Privateers, but the Way of the Scargiver's being used to train the entire Starfang Empire. They need a ranking system."

"Ranking system?" That meant more than one belt. "What rank is blue?"

"The fifth of seven," said Mims. "The order goes White, Yellow, Orange, Green, Blue, Brown, and Black." he scratched his head. "Though I think I might use Red instead of Brown. You know, since it's the Vrrl."

"They'd like that," Yvian agreed. "What belt would I be?"

"Blue," said Mims, "But you're pretty close to Brown."

"Oh."

"Don't knock it," the Captain noticed her disappointment. "It usually takes six to eight years to get to that level. Doing it in two is impressive."

"Oh." That sounded better. Then again... "Scarrend did it in a couple months."

"Different species," Mims pointed out. "The Vrrl have perfect muscle memory and can't improve their bodies with training. All they have to do is see the moves once and learn how to apply them." He put his hands on his hips. "It is annoying and unfair."

"Yeah." Yvian nodded. "It is." She tilted her head as a question struck. "What about Lissa?"

"Green Belt." Mims shrugged. "She's got other priorities."

"I guess so." Lissa was currently off visiting new arrivals in New Pixa. She'd invited Yvian along, but Yvian wanted to stay near the Encounter in case things popped off. The Peacekeeper Queens and the Vrrl had defeated the ships guarding the first two Gates at Aldara, but that still left over a billion ships to deal with. Rather than use the Jumpdrive and risk casualties at close range, the Queens were flying into position a few million kilometers from the enemy. Close enough to use their beam weapons, but way too far for the Federation to fire back. While it was the safe play, it was also slow. It would take the Peacekeepers over a week to be in position.

Yvian spared a glance at the open door. "He's not back yet." It wasn't like the Vrrl to leave suddenly like that. "Should we...?"

"Give him a bit." The human removed his helmet. "It's a big moment."

"Oh." Was Scarrend crying? Were the Vrrl able to cry? "You think he's..."

"Scarrend is of the Fifth Mafdet," Mims reminded her. "Self control is one of their main requirements."

"That doesn't mean he has to hide." Yvian frowned. "We could share the moment. No one would hold it against him."

"He would," Mims countered, "and other Vrrl might." He shrugged again. "Different species, remember?"

Scarrend took another ten minutes to return. When he did, he was calm. "Apologies for the delay, Scargiver."

"No need," said the Captain. He slapped his helmet back on.

"Congratulations, Scarrend." Yvian reached up to grip his shoulder.

"This unit also congratulates you," said Kilroy. He'd been so still Yvian almost forgot he was there. "This unit hopes you will continue to work hard and improve your efficiency in the art of murdering humans."

"Thank you," said the Vrrl. "It is... gratifying." He made two fists and placed them against his palms in front of his chest. He bowed low. "And thank you, Scargiver Mims."

"You're welcome." Mims returned the bow. "But enough about that." He gestured at Yvian. She donned her own helmet. "Today we'll be doing something different."

"Different how?" asked the Vrrl. "Should I be wearing my armor as well?"

"Not for this." Mims went into lecture mode. "We've spent these last months developing the Way of the Scargiver. It's based on dozens of martial art styles, but they're all human styles. We've done what we could to account for your superior strength and the extra arms, but at the end of the day you're still fighting like a human. Throws, strikes, and grappling."

"The Way of the Scargiver is a powerful and versatile tool. It follows the human philosophy of controlled force. You can use your skills to kill, or just break bones, or subdue your opponent without hurting them at all. The more you master it, the more killing becomes an option instead of a necessity. Developing those skills also develops your discipline and self control, which enhances your Mafdet. It's good, and your people should learn it, but it's the skillset of a warrior. It is not the skillset of a predator."

"How long has he been practicing that speech?" Yvian wondered. She didn't realize she'd spoken aloud until Mims gave her a glare. It still surprised her sometimes how he could glare so hard she could see it through his helmet. "Sorry."

"As I was saying," the Captain continued. "The Way of the Scargiver is a defensive art, and it doesn't make use of your natural weapons. You've got claws that rend steel and a bite force that would make a crocodile jealous."

"What's a crocodile?" asked Scarrend.

"Apex predator from Earth that was," Mims elaborated. "We've got some on New Pixa, now." He paused, flustered. He cleared his throat. "Anyway, I think you need another style. A lethal style. One made only for killing. One that uses your natural weapons the way the Scargiver style doesn't."

"You've..." Scarrend closed his eyes. "You've designed a new style? A predator style?"

"No." Mims crossed his arms, somehow managing to look smug and encouraging at the same time. "I'm not designing anything. You are."

"Me?" The Vrrl sputtered. "I can't... How would I...?"

"Scarrend," Yvian interrupted. "You're a Blue Belt, now. You know more about martial arts than anyone in the Empire. You can do this."

"You're the only one who can," Mims backed her up. "I don't have claws or fangs and I don't know how to use them." He gestured at himself. "We'll help, and we're armored up so you can experiment without killing us, but a Vrrl martial art should be engineered by a Vrrl, don't you think?"

"I..." Scarrend blinked slowly, first at Mims, than at Yvian. "If you're sure..."

"We are," Yvian assured him.

"Absolutely," the Captain agreed.

"This unit believes you will be sufficient," said Kilroy. "Especially with help from Big Daddy Mims."

"I..." The Vrrl took a deep breath.

"Alert!" Kilroy's eyes flashed red. "Enemy ship has entered New Pixa sector."

"Another gladiator?" Mims glanced sharply at the machine. "Did you get it?"

"Negative," said the Peacekeeper. "The ship was a Judgment class Destroyer. Affirmative. The ship was destroyed." His eyes flashed purple, then back to red. "The ship had zero point six eight seconds to scan New Pixa Sector before it was destroyed."

"Shit." Mims swore. "Now they know everything we've got."

"And what we don't have," said Scarrend.

"The error was ours," Kilroy apologized. "These units should have destroyed the vessel more swiftly."

"Nobody's perfect," said Mims. "I didn't think they'd throw away a destroyer for half a second of intel, either." He let out a breath. "But I should've."

"Oh Crunch." The bottom dropped out of Yvian's stomach. "They know we don't have Skygem anymore. There's no anti-tech field for the South Gate."

"We can destroy it if the humans start to invade," Scarrend reassured her.

"No we can't," said the Captain.

"All Jumpgates in New Pixa Sector lead to Xill space," Kilroy reminded them. "Destroying one of the Gates would antagonize the Xill. Retaliation would be immediate."

"Are more ships coming?" Yvian asked.

"Negative," Kilroy answered.

"Guess the High Commander didn't like what he saw." Mims swore again.

"The humans don't have the forces to take this sector," Scarrend agreed.

"Don't they?" Yvian wasn't so sure. "We've only got a couple million ships."

"But we've got thirty Queens," Mims pointed out, "and they're millions of kilometers from the Gates. The Federation could wipe out the planet and all our stations if they come in force, but they can't take the Queenships."

"They would also have to contend with four hundred million ships of the Vrrl Starfang Empire," Scarrend added. "I doubt they would survive long enough to destroy your planet."

"That too," Mims agreed. He was silent a moment. Then he grunted. "Well. Nothing we can do about it now. Might as well train."

"I guess." Yvian wasn't looking forward to it. Experimental slashing did not sound like a comfortable experience. "Way of the Predator, right?"

"No." Scarrend held up a finger. "The Way of the Starfang." His brows furrowed, and he ran a hand through his mane. "If the Scargiver approves?"

"You're the one making the style," Mims told him. "You're the one that gets to name it."

"I smell." Scarrend made a rumbling sound. It was short and rhythmic and... soothing? Yvian found it very pleasant. The Vrrl noticed Yvian staring. The noise cut off. Scarrend cleared his throat. "I... need to take care of something first. Someone should alert the Warmasters to this and... other developments. I'll be back when I finished my report." He strode calmly out the door. A few seconds later the rumbling started again. The Vrrl broke into a run down the corridor.

"Is that...?" Yvian shook her head. "Nevermind." She took her helmet off and draped an arm around the human's shoulders. "That was very sweet of you, Captain."

"I meant every word," Mims said, took off his own helmet and returned the gesture, wrapping an arm around Yvian in a rare show of physical affection. "But I can't take the credit. Most of it was Lissa's idea. I just wanted an excuse to wear the armor while we trained."

"Because of the drooling?" Yvian teased.

"Because of the drooling," the human confirmed. "It makes me uncomfortable, but he's sensitive about it. Lissa suggested I solve the problem less... directly... than I usually do."

Yvian smiled and squeezed the man's shoulder. "You're a good Captain." Her smile widened into a grin. "So how long did you practice that speech?"

"Forty six minutes and nineteen seconds," Kilroy supplied. His eyes glowed yellow with amusement.

"Shut up, Kilroy," Mims rolled his eyes. "Illusion of privacy, remember?"

"Yvian is correct, Big Daddy Mims." Kilroy's eyes flashed brighter. "You are a good Captain."

"Damn right," said the human. His arm tightened around Yvian's shoulders. "And I've got a good crew, too." The man was smiling. Really smiling. It made him look younger. Less dangerous. Not like Mims at all, really. It was a smile Yvian had only seen a few times, though Lissa had said he'd been doing it more lately.

"The best in the galaxy," Yvian bragged. She glanced at the door the Vrrl had exited. "He's really excited, you know."

"Yeah."

"It's gonna get rough when he comes back."

"Probably."

"You know," Yvian's smile turned mischievous. "A really good Captain would take the whole burden on himself. Maybe let me sit this one out. You know." She gave him her best grin. "Cause you love me."

"I do love you." Mims grinned back, giving her another squeeze. "Hell no."