The Privateer

"This is a stupid idea." Lissa glared at the Captain. The two of them had been arguing on and off for two days. It was the first major fight Yvian had seen between them. "You know it is."

The crew was standing in the cargo bay of the Random Encounter. The loading door was raised, and the ramp had been lowered.

"We need intel." The Captain was doing his level best to sound reasonable. He'd spent most of the fight like that, only raising his voice once or twice when something the pixen said got the better of him. To Yvian's surprise and concern, he'd completely avoided any display of the cold, lethal fury he was known for. "Stupid or not, I have to go."

"No you don't," Lissa spat. "We could send the Peacekeepers. Crunch, they'll be going anyway."

"We've been over this, Lissa." Mims reminded her. "No Federation soldier is going to have a conversation with a Peacekeeper unit. They're literally humanity's nightmare."

"Conversation is unnecessary," Kilroy butted in. "This unit can easily capture the humans and extract the information we need."

"We're not doing that," Mims repeated for the sixth time that day.

"It is a simple and effective solution," Kilroy argued, also for the sixth time that day.

"I'm not saying no cause I'm squeamish, Kilroy." Exasperation leaked into the humans voice. "We want the Federation to surrender. Committing war crimes will just make them fight harder."

"War crimes?" Yvian had never heard the term.

"There's a list of things humans think shouldn't be allowed during war," Mims explained. "You can look up the Geneva Convention later." He turned back to Kilroy. "More importantly, those soldiers won't let you take them."

"This unit doubts they could prevent it." The Peacekeeper's eyes glowed red.

"They'll kill themselves before you board the station." Mims told him. "Probably set the outpost to self destruct for good measure."

The red glow faded. "This unit sees your point, Big Daddy Mims."

"I hate that name."

"Embrace the swagger, Big Daddy." Kilroy's eyes flashed yellow.

"I don't think they'd be eager to talk to you either, Mark." Lissa continued the argument. "Aldara remembers, right?"

"I'll make it work," said Mims.

"I'll help," said Yvian. "They might be willing to talk to me."

"You're not coming either," said the Captain. "The Pixen Technocracy can survive without me, but it needs the Mothers."

"Gribshit." Yvian was not going to be left behind. "I'm motherless. Outcast. Most of our people would kill me on sight if they could."

"Incorrect," Kilroy told her. "Your public approval has greatly improved since the meatbags learned Yasme Kiver struck your name from the registry under the control of a slave implant."

"But she didn't, though," Yvian reminded him. "It's a lie."

"Affirmative," said Kilroy, "but the pixens do not know that. Approximately sixty percent of pixens now regard you with admiration and/or sympathy. The other forty percent will refrain from speaking in public." His eyes flashed red. "Any citizen who condemns you in public is made unitless."

"Unitless?" Yvian frowned. Her momentary confusion gave way to a terrible suspicion. "Wait. Does that mean what I think it means."

"It means the citizen becomes outcast," Kilroy explained. "No Peacekeeper unit will assist a unitless in any way. Other citizens assisting the unitless risk becoming unitless, themselves."

"No..." The Peacekeepers were responsible for nearly all commerce in the Technocracy. Food, goods, transportation, schools, all of it. Anyone cut off from that... They'd be trapped. Helpless. They'd starve to death or worse. "Crunch, Kilroy. You can't do that!"

"It is a highly effective tactic," the machine argued, "in keeping with traditional pixen values."

"It's fucking evil!" Yvian snapped. "It's motherless all over again! You can't... How could you!?"

"This unit fails to see the problem," said the Peacekeeper. "If citizens harm or reject society, ejecting them from society is an appropriate response."

"Dealing with people that harm society is what the law is for," said Mims. "Doing something like this outside of the law is..." He grimaced, thinking. He shook his head. "It's too much. Bad for society."

"So the units must draft laws." Kilroy inferred, "to codify unitlessness and it's causes."

"Don't you fucking dare," Lissa ordered. "No one should be made unitless. Do you understand, Kilroy? No one."

"Why not?" The machine asked. "It is an effective deterrent."

"Of course it is," said Lissa. "It's just like being motherless. A thing we live in fear of our whole lives. The only thing we're more afraid of than slavery." She put a hand on each of the machine's shoulders. "We can't do that to people, Kilroy. It's too cruel. It's worse than killing us. Do you understand?"

"Negative." Kilroy's eyes flashed purple. "If declaring a citizen unitless is cruel and evil, then why is declaring a citizen motherless acceptable?"

"It shouldn't be." Lissa closed her eyes and took a breath. "Kilroy, look at Yvian." The machine turned his head to look. "Yvian has saved hundreds of millions of lives. She's risked herself over and over, always fighting, always trying to do the right thing. She's the reason the Technocracy exists, and she's hated."

"She is not as hated-" Kilroy started.

"She's hated," Lissa cut him off. "Not because of anything she did. Yvian's an outcast because my mother's an evil bitch. That's it. That's the only reason. Any parent can ruin their child's life on a whim, and there's nothing anyone can do about it."

"This unit-" Kilroy started again.

"Not everyone has a Peacekeeper with a scheme, Kilroy," Lissa talked right over him. "The whole tradition is evil. It forces us to live in fear of our parents. It gives people the power to inflict a fate worse than death on their children, and it doesn't matter if the kid deserves it or not. A lot of bad things happened to us after the Darkening, Kilroy. A lot of bad things. We were exploited and murdered and terrorized and enslaved. We've spent centuries enduring every horror you can think of. But none of it, none of it was worse than what we've done to ourselves. None of it was more pointlessly cruel than the Registry of Families." She released Kilroy's shoulders and stepped back. "I want us to be better than that, Kilroy. I need us to be better."

"This unit understands." Kilroy's eyes flashed blue, then purple, then blue again. "You wish to remove the concept of motherless from the Pixen Technocracy. Making citizens unitless reinforces and legitimizes the concept of motherless, and therefore must be abolished. This unit will inform the other units. Unitless status will be removed from all citizens."

"Thank you," said Lissa.

"Th-thank you," said Yvian. Her throat was tight. She swallowed and turned back to Mims. "Anyway, I'm going."

"No you're not." The Captain was adamant.

"Yes I am," Yvian insisted. "You can't stop me."

The Captain's eyes narrowed. "I very physically can."

Yvian glared at the man, gauging his distance. Two meters. Could she outdraw him? Maybe rush him before he could draw his stunshot? Crunch no. Even if she could, the human was tough enough to beat her and Lissa together. Maybe she could get Kilroy to interfere? No. Fighting the Captain wouldn't solve anything. Even if Yvian could find a way to win. She needed to talk the man down. "Why are you so insistent on going alone?"

"I'm not going alone," said Mims. "I'll have Peacekeepers with me."

"Including this unit," Kilroy agreed.

"You're staying here," Mims told him.

"This unit is standard and expendable," Kilroy reminded him. "There is no reason not to take this unit."

"The Random Encounter's identical to our other gladiators," the Captain pointed out. "I'm still not taking it with me."

"This unit is not a ship." The machine's eyes were red again. "This unit will not be left behind."

"No, seriously," Yvian went back to the matter at hand. "Why are you trying to keep us out of this one?"

Mims eyed her for a moment. "Because it's a trap. The Stellar Defense Force has been ahead of us at every turn. High Commander Young's as cunning and dangerous as I am, and he's got the backing of a Synthetic Intelligence that can see the fucking future. We finally get ourselves a tactical advantage, and the entire fucking Federation finds a way to disappear. All except for a few assholes on a single, barely defended planet. It's a trap. It has to be."

"That doesn't answer my question." Yvian stepped closer to the man. "Why are you keeping us out of it? Why go alone?"

"Because he is afraid." A shimmer rippled on the loading ramp. The shimmer resolved into the armored form of Scarrend Scathach. The Vrrl strode towards them, removing his helmet to regard the Captain with disapproval. "The loss of the Skygem has made you soft."

"Scarrend." Mims gave him a nod. "I was wondering where you ran off to."

"Arguing is a waste of time," said the Vrrl, "I want no part of your lover's quarrel." He finished his approach and glared down at the human. "But I cannot let this insult pass."

Mims blinked. "Insult?"

"Don't insult my intelligence as well, Scargiver." The Vrrl growled. "You are afraid we will die. You do not trust any of us to keep ourselves alive. That is why you mean to trip this trap alone."

"It's not that-" Mims started.

"It is." The Vrrl cut him off. "I know you, Scargiver. You care nothing for your own life. All that matters to you is your mission and your crew." Scarrend snarled. "But you are no longer confident in your abilities. You fear to lose anyone else. Your cowardice is unbecoming of the Apex."

Mims froze. For the first time in two days, a cold, lethal calm settled over his features. "Would you care to repeat that?"

"Cowardice," spat the Vrrl. "You have allowed fear to make your choices." The Captain shifted slightly, feet spreading apart as all the tension melted out of his body. Scarrend's muzzle peeled back from his fangs. "Feeling angry? Insulted?" The monster's growl rumbled through the cargo bay. "How do you think I feel? To be considered so weak I must be hidden from danger like a softpaw child." Two hands lashed out, claws slicing through a bulkhead with the screech of peeling metal. "What use was all of my training, if I'm unworthy of trust? I am of the Apex, Mims. A warrior of the Fifth Mafdet. How dare you assume I would die so easily?"

The Captain glared back at the beast, loose and ready for violence. Yvian shifted into a stance of her own, arms loose at her sides. She didn't know who she'd help if it came down to a fight, but she wanted to be ready. The monsters stared each other down for a few, tense moments. The hulking Vrrl crackling with rage, and the still human radiating cold lethal intent.

"Mark?" A voice interrupted the standoff. Soft. Fragile, somehow. It was Lissa. "Is it true?"

The human held Scarrend's glare a moment longer, then let out a breath through his nose. He turned to Lissa, his face a mask of professional calm. "It's..." the mask cracked. "I..." Grief racked the man. He shuddered. His eyes were wet. He closed them, taking another breath. "Yes." He stepped away from Scarrend. Away from all of them. He stared out the cargo bay door. "It's true."

"Mark..." Lissa started to move towards the man. He held out a hand to stop her.

"You don't know what it's like." The Captain kept his back to them. "I lost everything. Killed everything I loved. For thirty years, I knew nothing but grief and death. Being alone was... easier."

He gave small shake of his head. "When you... When I met you... I felt... I started to live again. I thought I could handle it. I thought we couldn't lose. Forty years I've been a pilot, and I've never failed a mission."

His shoulder twitched. "And then we lost Brilend Prime. And then XTRO killed the Skygem. I lost. We lost. I... I don't want to lose anyone else."

"You won't," Lissa assured him.

"You might," Yvian disagreed.

Yvian's sister gave a look that said "What the Crunch are you doing?"

"Helping," Yvian's look said back. "What we do is dangerous. Any of us could die at any time."

"I know." Mims kept his back turned. "That's why-"

"You can't afford to be afraid," Yvian interrupted. "It's like you said. When you're afraid of dying, your more likely to die. You have to trust us. We have to trust each other. We have to have faith."

"I don't have faith in a goddamned thing." The human was bitter.

"You used to. You believed in yourself." Yvian gestured at herself. "And you believed in us. You're gonna have to do that again. I know your hurting, but we need you. The real you. Not this... whatever this is." She crossed her arms, glowering at the Captain's back. "The mission comes first. Always."

"The mission." Mims bowed his head. He took a deep breath. Let it out. "Yeah." He raised his head, breathing in again. When he finally turned, his face was calm. Cold. Professional. "I think we've talked enough. Let's get going." He walked over to a wall console. A few quick taps, and the loading ramp began to retract. "Kilroy, can you tell Captain Willy we'll be taking the Encounter for this trip?"

"Affirmative." The machine paused. "Taking Big Daddy Mims and both Mothers of Pixa into a trap is tactically unsound. This unit believes either Yvian Kiver or Lissa Kiver should remain behind."

"No," said Yvian.

"Not a chance," said Lissa.

"You heard the ladies," said the Captain. "We're all gonna lift together on this one." He pulled out his helmet and slapped it on.

Kilroy simulated a sigh. "Meatbags..."

"Let's hit the bridge." The Captain walked away with brisk confidence. "I want us in Terra Nova in two hours."

It was a lie, Yvian knew. His confidence was as fake and brittle as his calm. She might have talked sense into him for now, but one conversation wasn't near enough to patch the human's soul. A pep talk wasn't going to get him back to normal. Not soon, anyway. He was lying for the benefit of the crew. To keep them from worrying. They knew he was lying, and he knew that they knew. He kept lying anyway. Yvian let him. So did everyone else. It was oddly reassuring, in a way. All of them pretending, acting like things were alright. Each of them knowing they weren't fooling anybody, but pretending all the same. It was... nice. It felt like something a family would do.