The Privateer

Yvian strafed her ship, weapons blazing. The human vessel dodged easily, Her comm chirped. "Weapons range isn't about how far the shot will go. It's about reaction speed." Captain Mims fired a salvo. Yvian adjusted her strafe, easily avoiding the lances of blue energy. Mims continued. "Even a basic Particle Cannon like this one can travel tens of thousands of kilometers before it dissipates, but at any range over 3k, they're trivial to avoid. AimAssist will let you target another ship at almost any distance, but you're not going to hit them unless you get in close."

"I'll show you close," Yvian muttered. She gunned the engines. Her Visp fighter shot towards the human vessel. She kept her thumb on the accelerator node, pushing faster and faster. The human's Mark One Hornet slammed a salvo up the nose of her craft. "Shit!"

"Of course," Mims continued, "Getting close is hard to do. Maintaining a straight trajectory leaves you wide open, and most pilots that go for a straight charge get shredded before they realize their mistake." He fired another salvo. Yvian barely managed to dodge. "You have to keep changing direction, and you have to stay unpredictable." He fired again. Yvian shifted to avoid the shots and flew straight into his follow-up salvo." Her shields were down to thirty six percent. "If the enemy predicts your movements you die."

Yvian fired, still accelerating. She gunned the port thrusters, spinning, trying to avoid return fire and still keep the Hornet in her sights. The human ship danced around the attack. Even when she closed to 500 meters her salvos could not connect. He casually blasted the underside of her ship as she barreled past. The particle bolts tore through her shields and turned her Visp to dust.

Yvian swore. Twenty three simulations, and she had yet to land a single hit on Captain Mims. She looked over at him, checking for any hint of smugness. There was none. "I think that's enough for today," he said, removing his headset. "Let's go get some grub."

Yvian called her sister on the comms and told her it was dinner time. She met them in the kitchen. Lissa gave Yvian a wave, then wrapped herself around Captain Mims. Yvian rolled her eyes as they made out with wet smacking noises. Pixens and humans were too genetically different to reproduce, but that didn't mean they couldn't boink. Lissa and Mims had been boinking. Loudly. A lot. Yvian wouldn't have minded so much if they were quieter about it. The constant echoing of their happy fun times was an obnoxious reminder that she wasn't getting laid. It had been a month since she'd even seen a woman she wasn't related to, and it was starting to get on her nerves.

Lissa eventually pried herself off the human, grinning. "So how's the training going, Sis? Are you a super combat ace, yet?"

"No," she complained. "I couldn't land a single shot. He just toyed with me the whole time."

The human looked up from fiddling with the food dispenser. "It's like that at first. Piloting is a lot like martial arts. You can learn the basics in a day, but it takes hundreds of hours to become competent. Thousands, if you want to get good. You're picking it up pretty quick, all things considered."

"Thanks, that..." Yvian thought she was being patronized, at first, but the Captain hadn't bothered to spare her feelings once in the short time since they'd met. He hadn't handed out many compliments, either. "...makes me feel better, actually."

"No charge." Mims pulled two flat circles out of the dispenser and slid them into the oven. "Dinner will be pizza."

"Oh, pizza night," Lissa said. "I like pizza."

"You sure have a lot of fresh food," Yvian remarked. "Terran food, no less. Doesn't that get expensive?"

"It's worth it," the human replied. "I can't stand that protein paste that passes for rations around here." He set a timer. "How do the ships look, Lissa?"

"They're looking good," she said. "Hull integrities at a hundred percent for all three ships and all systems are fully operational."

"Excellent. The client's meeting us at the Milvari Shipyard. We can sell them right after we drop off the bounty. Good work"

Lissa flushed at the compliment. "I didn't have to do much, really. The Pantydropper's got an automated repair bay."

"What about The Pantydropper?" Yvian asked. She'd fallen in love with the tricked out cargo ship. She wanted it for herself if she could think of a way to get it. "Are we selling it, too?"

"I don't think so," Captain Mims said. "We've still got two hundred souls in cryo on board. If we dump them at Milvari, chances are they'll end up in a Slave Processing Station inside of a week. Besides, she's one hell of a support ship. Automated repair bays, hangars for up to five ships, and a sensor suite that's even better than mine. She's fast, spacious, and armed to the teeth. I might just give her a new name and keep her for myself."

"Why do you keep calling it a she?" Lissa asked. "Ships are inanimate."

"Old human tradition," he told her. "Plus personal preference. If I'm going to be inside something, I like it better if it's a woman."

Lissa snorted. "I'll bet you do."

"So after Milvari the job's done, right?" Yvian asked. "Then we can go to Prisna III?"

"I guess so," he agreed. "We can be there in three weeks, give or take." He leaned closer to Lissa. "She's really keen on selling those textiles, isn't she?"

"She's a completionist," Lissa explained.

"Ah."

"It's not just that," Yvian said. "I need to sell that stuff while Prisna's still got a shortage. If the price goes down before we get there I'll lose a lot of money."

"Not really." Captain Mims caught Yvian's glare. "No, seriously. Check it out. You bought ten thousand credits worth of textiles, right? Before your ship got repoed..."

"Stolen," She interjected.

"Before your ship got stolen," the human continued, "You were planning to sell them on Prisna III for a forty percent mark up. That's a profit of four thousand credits. It's chump change."

"It's a lot more than 20 credits," Yvian pointed out. "Which is what you're paying me for this job."

Mims and Lissa looked at each other. "You didn't tell her?" he asked.

"I was going to," Lissa admitted. "But it's funnier when she doesn't know."

"When I don't know what?" Yvian was getting peeved.

"Yvian," The Captain said, "As Apprentice Privateers you and Lissa each get ten percent of what we make on this job."

"You said the bounty was two hundred credits. Ten percent of two hundred is twenty bucks."

"Yeah, we only get two hundred for saving the kid," he allowed. "But what about the ships we captured? You get ten percent of that, too."

"Oh," That changed things. "How much are we talking?"

"Let's see," Mims thought a moment. "The Knife Edge and Cockknocker are Kelva class fighters. They're worth six million a piece, stock, but with all the weapons and gear thrown in we'll probably get twice that. The Pimp Hand's a Venga class heavy fighter. With the loadout she's got, she's worth thirty mil at least."

"What about The Pantydropper?" Lissa asked.

"A hundred million credits, easy. But we're not selling that one."

"Doesn't that mean you owe us ten million a piece?" Lissa grinned.

"Technically, no." the human said. "You're entitled to ten percent of the money, but not the gear." He turned back to Yvian. "Anyway, you'll be walking away with a minimum of five million credits. Ten grand worth of cargo just isn't a big deal next to that."

"So we're gonna be rich, then."

"Not really. Space is expensive."

"It's richer than I've ever been." Yvian grinned. She was a millionaire! "We should celebrate."

"I'm already making pizza." The Captain shrugged. "I guess I could bake a cake, too."

Fifteen hours later found the three of them on the bridge of The Random Encounter. Lissa had brought a piece of cake, but Captain Mims made her put it back in the kitchen. "No food on the bridge," He'd said.

"Do we have to do this every time?" Lissa asked. "Suits and everything?" She looked uncomfortable in her voidarmor. It was sleek, black, and its helmet had a mirrored visor. Captain Mims had taken one look at the patched voidsuits the sisters used, made a derisive snort, and brought the new armors out of the armory.

The armors were of human make. Mims had called them GR17s. He said they were the same model used by the Terran Commandos. Yvian loved hers. The GR17 came equipped with a jetpack, grav boots, stealth systems, and a temporary shield generator. It enhanced her strength, regulated her body temperature, and was surprisingly comfortable to wear. The armor made her feel badass, and she wore it constantly. She didn't even have to launder the thing. It was self cleaning!

"Suits and everything," The Captain confirmed. He donned his helmet. "You never know what's on the other side of a Jumpgate. Sensors can't see through them. We could come out in the middle of a Klaath attack, or pirates, or any number of nasty things, so we have to be ready to fight. Spacers that don't respect the Gates don't live very long."

Yvian looked out the viewport at the Gate in question. The Jumpgate was a ring, thirteen kilometers thick, encircling a space over two thousand kilometers in diameter. The space within the ring bounced light like a mirror, and she watched The Random Encounter approach in the reflection. The Gates were so ancient no one really knew where they came from. They were the only way she knew of to travel from one solar system to the next.

"This is the last Gate, right?" Yvian asked. "The shipyard's in the next sector?"

"That it is," Mims answered. "Job's almost done." He sat down at his control console.

They watched in silence as The Random Encounter approached the Gate. When it's prow touched its own reflection, a blue light swirled around it. Yvian felt nothing, but the swirling light shifted, giving the impression of sudden, very fast motion. A thrumming filled the ship, increasing in pitch and volume. When it reached a crescendo, the blue light flashed, and the ship hurtled out of it and back into the starry void. The thrumming ceased.

"Lissa, systems check." Captain Mims ordered. "I'm on sensors. "Yvian, keep an eye out for The Pantydropper and let me know when she arrives."

Yvian pulled up The Pantydropper's status on her console. It was due through the gate in fifteen seconds.

"System check complete," Lissa declared. "All systems green."

"Good," the Captain acknowledged. "We'll need them. This system's got pirates. A lot of pirates."

"Pirates?" Yvian impatiently ran a system check as The Pantydropper came through the Jumpgate. "Pantydropper's through, all systems green."

"A whole fleet of 'em. Two hundred forty seven ships. Looks like the Confed's squaring off with them, but they're outnumbered two to one."

"Should we help?" Lissa asked.

Before the human could answer, the comm chirped. "Attention, civilian vessels. This is Captain Tharn of the Confederation Militia. I am commandeering your vessels under the Patriot Protection Act. You will pass control of your ships to our pilots at this time."

The Captain swore. "You two don't know how this stuff works yet," he told the sisters. "So don't talk unless there's an emergency. Yvian, set us a course to the Milvari Shipyard." Yvian nodded.

The Captain pressed a button to open the comms. "Captain Tharn, this is The Random Encounter. You know perfectly well that the Patriot Protection Act only applies to invasion by the Klaath or the Xill. Even if it did apply, it wouldn't give you the authority to take control of our ships directly."

"Don't try to lawyer me, pilot. This is an emergency!"

"Yeah, but it's not my emergency. You can't have my ships."

Yvian laid in a course to the shipyard as Tharn insulted the ancestry of Captain Mims. She noticed something odd, and focused the sensor arrays for a closer look. Oh, shit.

Captain Tharn continued, "You're going to give me those ships, or I'll have you before the Magistrate. I'll put you in prison. I'll take everything you've got. I'll sell you to fucking slavers! You hear me!?"

"Captain..." Yvian started.

The human ignored her. "You're not going to do a damned thing, Captain. I'll be surprised if you're not part of a debris field by the end of the day."

"Captain..." Yvian tried again.

"Thrice cursed cowards, the lot of you! You mark my words, shitroller..."

"Captain Mims!" Yvian made it a shout this time.

The Captain gave her a sharp look, but all he said was, "Report."

"It's the Milvari Shipyard, Captain. It's moving." The human stared at her for a second, processing. His eyes widened and he turned back to his console. Over a hundred kilometers of shipyard was making for one of the far Jumpgates. It was being towed by a five kilometer Worldmover heavy transport. The Mover and the station were escorted by two frigates and a dozen fighters with pirate IFFs.

"Did she says Mims?" Tharn asked. "As in Madlad Mims?"

Mims sighed. "Yeah, that's me. You want to tell me what's going on here, Captain?"

"What's going on is you work for me now, human. I don't care what kind of reputation you have. This is an emergency and you will help or I will rain fire down upon you with the full force of the Confederation. Am I understood?"

The human spoke slowly, cold as the void. "Threatening me is not a good idea, Tharn."

"Are you threatening me, human?" Tharn growled. Yvian found his bluster to be a pale imitation of the Captain's icy, matter of fact warning. "And it's Captain Tharn."

"You don't have the authority or the resources to take my ships, Tharn. You can't make me do a God-damned thing, and you know it. But that doesn't mean I'm not for hire. So now you have a choice. Tell me what's going on and make me an offer, or go fuck yourself. If you pick the second one, I'll come find you after the Confed strips you of your commission for failing to stop whatever's happening. Choose wisely."

"You thrice cursed shitroller..."

"Fuck yourself it is. Have fun with the pirates." Yvian took that as a cue and turned the ships around to head back the way they came.

"Wait, you fu-" Tharn sputtered. "I mean, hold on there a minute, Captain. I would like to hire your services."

Captain Mims stayed silent.

"Please."

Mims gestured at Yvian. She stopped the ships.

"What's the situation?"

"Fourteen hours ago, a pirate fleet came through the Gate. They had a Mover with them, and they're using it to steal the Milvari Shipyard. We tried to shoot it down, but those thrice cursed frigates are acting as missile defense, and we can't push through the fleet to hit it directly."

"Stealing an entire shipyard. Ambitious."

"It's worse than that." Tharn said bitterly. "The Confed Military's Third Fleet's in drydock for a refit. If those bastards make off with it, they'll have more firepower then the entire nation of Trelg. They might be able to threaten the Confederation, itself."

"What about the station defenses?" The human asked.

"We don't know." Tharn sounded tired, now. "The shipyard's not answering comms. What I need you to do is get over there and take out that Mover."

"The station's already in motion," Mims pointed out. "Taking out the Mover won't stop it from going through the Gate."

"No, but it'll mean they can't take it through the next one. The pirates need to get it through two more sectors before they make it to their own territory. They can't do that if we take out their Worldmover."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, boys." A voice, female, melodic, came through the comms. "Captain Mims, this is Commandant Quintina Barillas of The Last Shadow. I command this force of the Freedom Republic. I've heard a lot about you, Captain. Did you know there's a bounty on your head?"

"I'm aware," Mims replied. "People try to collect, sometimes."

"I see. Do you ever think you might be on the wrong side? You know how corrupt the Confederation is. We're going to stop them, bring real freedom to all the races. You could be part of that. The Republic could use someone like you."

"Get off this channel, you human pirate bitch!" Tharn shouted. "Captain Mims is working for me!"

The Commandant's voice cracked like a whip. "Shut it, rent-a-cop! Interrupt me again and I'll turn your ship into a cloud of glowing scrap metal. Stay off the comms 'til I've had my say."

Everyone waited, but Tharn did not speak again. Barillas continued, "Well Captain, what do you say? Care to join the cause of freedom?"

"Spare me the rhetoric, Commandant. You're slavers. If you've got an offer, make it."

If the pirate was annoyed at his tone, she didn't show it. "My offer is this. Walk away. Take your ships and go back the way you came. If you do that, I'll pay you a sum of twenty million credits. As a bonus, I'll rescind the price on your head and grant you access to our stations. It's a very generous offer, Captain. Please consider it."

"You're right, Commandant. That is quite generous. Let me confer with my crew. I'll get back to you in twenty minutes." The Captain turned to Yvian. "Dock us in The Pantydropper, please."

Yvian started the docking sequence. The human sat in silence, tapping something into his console. After a few seconds, Lissa remarked, "You're not taking the deal."

"I am not." Mims kept typing. "My client's on that station, and I can't complete the job if she's dead or enslaved." Mims finished typing. Lissa's wrist console pinged. Yvian's wrist console pinged. "I just wired eight million credits to each of your accounts. Your part of this job is done. You'll both board The Pantydropper and I'll send it to one of the mining stations."

"So you're ditching us?" Yvian found herself suddenly angry. "Just like that? What about all that Apprentice Privateer crap? I thought you wanted a crew."

"I never wanted a crew," He told her. "If I hadn't needed a translator you two would be sitting in a cryo pod right now like the other dunks I rescued. I made you Apprentices because it's the only way you could be involved without being licensed. It was just for one job, and that job is over."

"You motherless son," Lissa snarled. "I trusted you."

"And I played you fair. I...Look," the human raised his hands in a placating gesture. "I'm not saying I don't like you, or you're useless, or anything like that. You did good work, and I'm...fond...of you both. But what I'm about to do is fucking dangerous. I wouldn't drag you into it if you had two years of real experience, and you've barely got two weeks of training."

Yvian's anger faded. He was trying to protect them. Then it flared up again. Who did he think he was? That his concerns were reasonable just made her more annoyed. The sisters looked at each other. Lissa looked frightened, but gave a nod. Yvian leaned back in her chair. "Alright, Captain. You sold us. We're in."

"What?"

"We'll help you save the day," she repeated.

"Did you hear what I just said?" The Captain's usually matter of fact voice cracked in surprise and annoyance. "You aren't ready."

"Experienced pilots aren't ready either," Lissa pointed out. "And we're all you've got."

"I don't need you," he asserted.

"I think you do. You've got five ships, but you can only fly one at a time. Having three of us will give you a lot more options than you get with just you."

"This is going to be a clusterfuck," he told her. "There's a good chance we'll all die."

"Then you're going to need all the help you can get," Yvian stepped in. "Besides, I'm a completionist. Like you said, the job's not done."

The human moved his gaze from one pixen to the other. He swore. "Fine. Same deal as before. You do what I say, when I say, and you get Apprentice rates. Deal?"

"Deal," said Lissa.

"I want The Pantydropper." Yvian said.

"If we make enough, I'll let you buy it off me."

"Agreed."

"Alright," The Captain started typing on his console again. "Sit tight and stay quiet. I've got to make a call."

When he was finished typing, Captain Mims opened a channel to the Militia. "Captain Tharn, this is Captain Mims. I'm sending you an Emergency Defense contract. We get right of capture for any pirates we take out, one percent of the cost of any property we save, and a fee of twenty five million credits. Do you accept?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Mims," Captain Tharn responded. "Twenty five mil is outrageous."

"It's perfectly reasonable considering what we're up against," the human replied. "Besides, the pirates offered me twenty to stay out of it."

"I'll give you twenty one mil and not a credit more," Tharn haggled.

"Agreed," said Mims. "Sign the contract and we'll get started." Mims turned to Lissa. "Get the combat drones out of storage. I want three on each fighter. Then take The Pantrydropper and head for the nearest mining outpost."

"Uh...Aren't we gonna need the Dropper?" Yvian asked.

Mims shook his head. "She's a glass cannon. She's got the firepower of a frigate, but her shields aren't much better than mine and she's got no maneuverability. She wouldn't survive this kind of fight." He pointed at Lissa. "There are over 200 helpless civilians in cryo on that ship. Keeping them alive is your number one priority. Understood?"

"Got it, Captain." Lissa started to walk off the bridge, then paused. "You know, for a bloodthirsty human, you seem pretty keen on safeguarding civilians."

"Of course I am," he huffed. "Collateral damage is unprofessional." She smiled and kept walking.

"What about me?" Yvian asked.

"You're with me," he told her. "We can remote pilot the other ships from here."

The comm pinged. "This is Captain Tharn, Here's your contract, Mims. You better get the job done."

"Understood."

The comm pinged again. "I'm disappointed in you, Mark,' The Commandant's dulcet tones offered gentle reproof. "I was really hoping we could come to an arrangement."

"Sorry, Quintina," he replied. "You seem like a nice enough crime lord, but I'll make more money stopping you and taking your ships. Plus I've got my reputation to consider."

"Indeed," she purred. "A reputation for madness. You're about to earn it. Goodbye, Mims. It's been interesting."

"Captain," Yvian looked up from the scanners. "Fifty four ships just broke off from facing the Confed. They're heading right for us."

"Shit." Mims glared at his console. "I guess she wasn't kidding about the madness thing." He pinged Lissa on the comms. "Hey, you got those drones loaded yet?"

"Of course not," she snapped back. "It's been like, two minutes."

"Well hurry up," he replied. "We've got company coming."

Mims waited impatiently for the loading to finish. Yvian stared at her console. Fifty four ships. One battlecruiser, two frigates, four corvettes, and forty seven fighters. How the Crunch were they going to deal with all that?

"You're loaded up," Lissa called. "Launching now."

"Understood," said Mims. "Get out of here."

"I'm going. May you find fortune on the cusp of The Crunch."

"You too."

Mims set an intercept course. The Random Encounter and its escorts shot forward, straight at the incoming fleet.

"Uh..." Yvian had doubts. "Are you sure we can take them?"

"Hell no." Mims kept his fingers on the accelerator. "Fifty ships? I'm good. I'm not magic."

"Then shouldn't we try to, uh, fly around them or something?"

"I'd love to. We don't have time." Speed was at four kilometers a second and climbing. "At the rate they're going, that Mover's going to get the shipyard through the Gate in seven hours. The pirates'll follow and they'll blow the Gate behind them."

"Destroy the Jumpgate!?" Yvian recoiled at the idea. "They wouldn't, even a human wouldn't..."

"She would," said Mims. "I'm betting that's the plan. We have to stop that station from entering the Gate. And since the damned thing's not designed to move, it doesn't have inertial dampeners. We'll have to tow it out of the way slow, or everyone inside gets squished into a puddle. Which means we have to capture the Mover in 6 hours or less."

"And that's why we're flying face first at a fleet of ships we can't fight?"

"Now you're getting it." Captain Mims gave her a smile. He held down the accelerator a little longer, easing off when the ships reached eighty kilometers a second. "And now a quick lesson in space flight. Any ship can go as fast as it wants, given enough time. But the faster you go, the longer it takes to slow down or stop. That's why you don't see most ships go over five k a second, and bigger ships go slower than that. Our friends over there are keeping to the recommended speed for the battlecruiser, at 2 ks. It would've taken them sixteen hours to reach us, but now we'll get to them much faster."

"Then what?"

"I'm working on it. Keep an eye on the sensors and let me know if anything new happens." The Captain focused in on his console, alternately typing and tapping at the screen. Yvian watched him for a few seconds, then realized with a start he was serious about her monitoring the sensors.

Several minutes went by. Yvian was becoming increasingly worried. She jumped when the ship started shuddering. A rapidfire thumping noise vibrated through the bridge, stopping suddenly a few seconds after it began. She turned to see the Captain leaning back in his chair. "What was that?" she demanded.

"A MACdriver cannon," the human explained. "Terran tech. Uranium slugs launched by magnetic accelerators." He grimaced. "The rounds I'm using are experimental. They cost ninety grand a piece."

"What do they do?"

"They're hard to pick up on sensors." Mims glanced at his console. "And they pass through shields. Should make impact in nine minutes, twenty six seconds."

They waited. Nothing happened. "I think you should get a refund. You know, if we survive."

"We'll see about that." Mims veered his ships, vectoring an intercept course for the shipyard. The battlecruiser, the frigates, and one fighter changed course to match him. The others did not. "Hmm... missed one."

"The MACthingy isn't for taking out ships," Yvian realized. "You used it to kill the pilots."

"Got it in one." Mims activated his comm. "Lissa, it's Mims. Change of plan. I want you to wait ten minutes, then take The Pantydropper after those ships that didn't change course. Use the capture program in the autopilot. Scan for lifesigns, first. You don't want to deal with boarders."

"On my way," She replied.

"So are we going to fight the big ships now?" Yvian asked.

"Nope." The Captain glared at his console. "The Encounter can handle a frigate, but that cruiser's another matter. It's loaded with Rapid Artillery Arrays. If it gets within ten kilometers we're dust."

"So what do we do?"

Mims shrugged. "Something desperate." He started playing with his console again. "Do you trust me?"

"Uh...Kinda?" Yvian caught his annoyed look. "What? We just met two weeks ago."

Mims sighed. "I'm programming in a vector change. We'll make it look like we're trying to get distance to go around. We have to decelerate to do it, and they're going to close in. When they start firing, and they will, I need you to take evasive maneuvers. Our other fighters are mirrored to the Encounter, so the controls move all of them at once. I've also programmed a missile launch. Hit this button," he pointed, "when I tell you to. If I'm not back in three hours, abort the mission."

"Back?" What the Crunch? "Where are you going?"

Mims put on his helmet. "I'm going to show some people how I got my nickname." He walked off the bridge.