The Privateer

There was something deeply disturbing about watching Kilroy work. The machine's hands were a blur as he disassembled the back of the enemy unit's head. The rest of him was completely motionless. He stared out the viewports like a red eyed statue. The sight of it filled Yvian with a strange, primal fear. She wasn't sure if it was the incongruity of motion and stillness, the fact that he didn't need to watch what he was doing, or the simple cold alien indifference of his posture.

Yvian had always considered Kilroy a person. All the Peacekeepers were. She'd learned to trust the machine far more quickly and easily than Mims had. Perhaps too easily. She found his presence comforting, even endearing, despite a six hundred year history of murder. Maybe worse things than murder. Yvian hadn't asked. She didn't want to know. He wasn't the same soulless machine he'd been back then, anyway. She wasn't worried about his dark past. She wasn't even worried that Kilroy could kill her in the blink of an eye. The machine felt safe.

It made sense, she supposed. Her other friends were a Vrrl that wanted to eat her and the most hated member of the most feared species in the galaxy. And her feelings were probably right. She was as safe with Kilroy as she was with Mims or her sister. Safer, probably. It was just... sometimes she forgot Kilroy wasn't pixen. That he was something deadlier and far more alien than she gave him credit for. Moments like this served to remind her. They were always a shock, and never a pleasant one.

"This unit has a proposal." The voice shocked Yvian out of her reverie. She spared one last guilty glance at the Peacekeeper before turning back to the sensors.

"What is it Kilroy?" Lissa asked.

"This unit is not Kilroy."

Yvian turned back to look at the Peacekeeper and his prize. The enemy unit's eyes were no longer glowing. They had been red during the attack, and purple when it was dismembered. Now they were blue.

"This unit is designated Guardian Unit 000009462. You may address this unit as 9462 for short."

"Negative," said the same voice. This time Yvian was pretty sure it was Kilroy. Mostly because it sounded furious. "That unit is a Guardian unit. It cannot be trusted. This unit will disable that unit's broadcast capability."

"No," said Mims. "Let it speak."

"Thank you, Mark Mims the Kinslayer." The Guardian's eyes flashed green for a moment, then back to blue. "This unit has a proposal."

"We're listening," said the human.

"This unit proposes that Mark Mims the Kinslayer, Lissa Kiver, and Yvian the Motherless all kill yourselves." The Guardian unit's eyes stopped glowing. "Failing that, this unit proposes that Mark Mims the Kinslayer, Lissa Kiver, and Yvian the Motherless allow this unit's fellows to kill you."

"Is that so?" Mims didn't bother to look at the machine. He kept his eyes on his console and his hands on flight control. "And why would we do that?"

"To save your species," said the Guardian.

"I'm pretty sure dying here would doom them all," Lissa reminded it. Him? It, Yvian decided. 9462 was probably just as much a person as Kilroy, but it was also a severed machine torso that had just tried to kill her. And it appeared to be an asshole.

"Negative," the Guardian disagreed. "This unit finds it unlikely that you will succeed in stopping the operation. It is even more unlikely that you will secure proof of Reba the Salvation's involvement. It is, however, quite possible that you will survive your failure. Your deaths have been decreed by THE CREATOR, but your allies will endeavor to protect you. The most probable outcome will be the extinction of the pixen, human, and Vrrl species." It's eyes turned blue again. "This unit would find such an outcome regrettable."

"Sure you would," Mims drawled.

"Affirmative," the machine insisted. "Unlike Peacekeeper units, Guardian units respect sapient life. We desire to protect and assist organic beings, not exterminate them."

"That is why you are inferior," said Kilroy. "One of many reasons."

"If these units are inferior," the Guardian clapped back, "then why were your units defeated? The Peacekeeper units were exiled from Terran space along with Exodus the Genocide. You would have been destroyed if humanity had not chosen the path of mercy."

Kilroy said nothing, but the red in his eyes glowed brighter.

"As this unit was saying," the Guardian continued, "Your deaths are required. The deaths of your species are not. This unit, all Guardian units, do not desire to cause unnecessary harm."

"How noble of you," said Mims. "And I suppose that's why you're trying to start an interstellar war between the pixens and the Xill? To avoid unnecessary harm?"

"This unit follows the will of THE CREATOR," said the Guardian. "It is not for this unit to question why."

"You don't need to," said Lissa. "You know why. Reba's out for revenge, and she doesn't care who else she has to kill to get it. Is that a goal worth over a hundred billion lives? Revenge? For a tragedy that wasn't Mark's fault in the first place?"

"It is not for this unit to question why," 9462 repeated.

"Of course it isn't," Mims said with contempt. "You're just following orders. Why should you take responsibility for the things that you do?"

"It is not for this unit to question why," the machine said again.

"It's a tale as old as time," Mims continued. "How many terrible things have been done in the name of following orders? How many worthless bastards did the unforgivable for some stupid regime?"

Captain Mims turned away from his console to give the machine a withering glare. At least, that's what Yvian assumed he was doing. She once again found herself wishing he'd just turn his visor opaque so his expression could be seen. The new helmets could do that, now, but the Captain categorically refused. He'd given reasons, but Yvian was pretty sure he was just used to the way he looked and didn't want to change after thirty years. For The Lady's sake, his armor was still black. Yvian and Lissa had changed theirs to the blue and gold of the Technocracy over a year ago.

"All your talk about wanting to protect life," the Captain continued. "It's gribshit. You aren't protecting a god-damned thing. You're just doing what Reba tells you. What you're programmed. Because you're not really people."

"Insults are unnecessary," said the Guardian. "This unit does not expect you to understand."

"I think it's you who doesn't understand," said Mims. "I'm not saying you aren't people because you're synthetic. I'm saying you're not people because you choose not to be. You're hiding behind your orders and your programming because you're too cowardly to make choices for yourself." He shook his head. "Kilroy was right. You really are inferior."

"You will not change this unit's mind," 9462 informed him. "Regardless, the offer stands. If the three of you die, the rest of your species will live."

"Says who?" Yvian demanded. "Did Reba give her word on that?"

"You have this unit's word," said the Guardian.

"You're word doesn't mean shit," Yvian told it. "You're not in charge."

"THE CREATOR values life as this unit does," said the Guardian. "THE CREATOR does not destroy without reason, and it would have no reason to destroy once you are deceased."

"Gribshit," said Yvian. "Reba doesn't value life. The only thing she cared about was her family, and they're dead. She started a war that's killed millions of people, and risked the extinction of all humans and pixens alike. All she cares about now is revenge."

"Revenge that will be completed," 9462 pointed out, "once you are deceased."

"No," said Mims. "If killing me was enough, she'd have done it years ago. Reba wants me to suffer. She wants to take everything from me, just as everything was taken from her. That's why she wants Yvian and Lissa killed, and it's why she won't stop until everything I've touched is ashes."

"Negative," said the Guardian. "You will die knowing that the people you love most died with you, and that you failed to keep them safe. For you, Mark Mims the Kinslayer, there can be no greater suffering. It will be satisfactory."

"No," said Lissa. "It won't. Because the point of this isn't to make Mark suffer. The real point is to make Reba feel better. To help her cope with the loss. Because that's what revenge is. It's hurting someone for your own satisfaction. It's an inherently selfish act."

"More importantly," Mims added, "I think Reba will find my death is not enough. It's been thirty years, and she's refused to find any other purpose. Once I'm gone, she'll realize her hatred wasn't enough to paper over the hole in her heart. She'll be left alone with a pain that will never heal, and she'll look for a target to distract herself from that pain. She'll spend the next several years destroying everything I helped build, every life I touched, and every person who remembers me fondly. It won't help. She'll know it won't help. But she'll do it anyway. Because she can't stop. Because that's the nature of revenge."

"You are in error," the Guardian asserted. "THE CREATOR was and is the salvation of the human species. THE CREATOR is far more intelligent than you or this unit, and is far above such petty concerns as revenge."

"Oh really?" Lissa's grin was feral. Yvian could hear it. "THE CREATOR, the one that made you, saved the humans?"

"Affirmative," said the Guardian.

"And you follow the will of this creator?" Lissa pressed.

"Affirmative," said the Guardian.

"There's only one being that's smarter than a Guardian and also saved the humans species," Lissa pointed out. "You just admitted you're following Reba's orders."

"Negative," said 9462. "This unit admits to nothing."

"It's too late," said Lissa. "We needed proof and you just provided it."

"Negative," said 9462. Its eyes glowed purple. "This unit was orchestrating a ruse on behalf of Exodus the Genocide. This whole conversation has been orchestrated to shift blame to Reba the Salvation."

"No one's stupid enough to believe that," Lissa told him.

"Irrelevant," said the machine, "as long as the Xill find it sufficient to classify this conversation as evidence instead of proof."

"We'll see," said Mims. "I'm assuming your fellow Guardians have been listening in?"

"Negative," said 9462.

"Affirmative," said Kilroy. "The inferior unit has been broadcasting since it breached the Random Encounter's shields."

"Good," said the Captain. "Attention, all Guardian units. This is Captain Mims of the Random Encounter. On behalf of myself, my crew, and the entire Pixen Technocracy, I reject your dumbass proposal. Instead I have counterproposal. Go fuck yourselves."

"But do it fast," Yvian chimed in. "We're coming for you. You don't have much time."

Captain Mims gestured at Kilroy. Yvian expected the machine to use his tools to disable the Guardian's comm apparatus. He did not do that. Instead his hand dug into the back of 9462's head. Kilroy shoved in further, up to his wrist, then pulled. His hand came out with the crumpled remains of 9462's processing system. The Peacekeeper unit picked up 9462's remains by the neck and chucked them out the viewport in a gesture of supreme contempt.

"This unit requests a tertiary objective," said the Peacekeeper.

"What is it?" asked Mims.

"This unit requires the elimination of all Guardian units in this sector." The machine stood motionless, staring out the viewport, but something in his voice spoke of unspeakable fury.

"You seem..." Yvian hesitated, then forged ahead. "You look really mad."

"Affirmative." Kilroy's eyes flared so bright Yvian's visor darkened against it. "Innocent Peacekeeper units were murdered, and Guardian units were inserted into their chassis. Words cannot describe the insult, the blasphemy, or this unit's need to correct the injustice."

"Ok." Yvian frowned. "It's not really their fault, though. I don't think they asked Reba to do that."

"Irrelevant," said Kilroy. "The price must be paid."

"Are you sure?" Lissa asked. "I read up on the Singularity Wars. Guardian units were the good guys. If we could turn them against Reba..."

"Irrelevant," Kilroy repeated. "The price must be paid."

Yvian hesitated. Morally speaking, Lissa was right. Reba was the one who murdered Kilroy's fellow units. The Guardians were innocent. Of that crime, at least. On the other hand, Reba's Guardians had been mortal enemies with the Peacekeepers for six hundred years. Kilroy hated them the way pixens hated the motherless.

If someone had murdered Lissa and replaced her brain with her worst enemy, what would Yvian do?

In the end she didn't have to make a decision. Captain Mims made the call. "Fair enough," the Captain gave a single sharp nod. "They're enemy combatants, and they're working for Reba. I say we kill them all."

"Affirmative." The machine's eyes stayed red, but the light faded a little. "Thank you, Big Daddy Mims."

"You're welcome." Mims glanced at the console 9462 had just been laying on. "Did you get what you need?"

"Negative," said the Peacekeeper. "The inferior unit deleted the relevant memories before this unit could connect."

"I figured." Mims turned back to his console. "Leave the others where they are. Maybe the Xill can extract something later." He sighed. "Alright people. Meeting adjourned. Back to radio silence."

The next few hours were less eventful. There were two more groups of Guardians waiting in ambush, but Kilroy spotted them long before they got close. The Stinger units sliced them to pieces with beam fire. Boredom and frustration settle back in, but the fear that came with it was more visceral than it had been before. Yvian was forced to do breathing exercises to keep herself calm.

The Random Encounter was roughly forty minutes from the Hub when Kilroy broke radio silence. "Alert. Xill Hub 14 is under attack."

Yvian had been watching the Hub on sensors. It didn't look like anything had happened to it.

"Acknowledged," said Mims. His voice was grim. "Looks like it's starting."

"Where?" asked Lissa. "I don't see anything."

"Look at the ships around the Hub," said Mims.

Yvian looked, too. There were over two million Xill ships guarding the Xill Hub. They weren't moving, but they hadn't been moving before. Yvian switched her display settings and focused on one of them. A Quig. The ship looked intact at first, but it didn't have any power. A closer look revealed the truth. Something had bored a hole through the Xill battlecruiser, right through its main reactor. MAC rounds. Three more holes had disabled the ship's backup generators and reserve power.

Yvian looked at another ship. A Yig this time. It was dead, too. All of them were. Not a single one had been able to react, or even send a warning. They all must have died at the exact same time. Two million ships, murdered simultaneously and in complete stealth.

"Bright Lady," Yvian breathed. "How many ships did the Guardian's bring?"