The Privateer

Yvian pulled up sensors as the Jump Effect resolved. She was slower than usual. Working with only one hand was difficult, and while her suit's PAIN REMOVAL kept her comfortable enough, the feedback provided by MOBILITY PROTOCOL didn't feel quite the same as when she was using her own nervous system. Lissa completed her systems check before Yvian had started her sensor sweep.

"Systems check complete," Lissa reported. "All systems green."

Yvian finally managed to bring up the updated sensor display. She didn't like what she saw. "Uh, Captain?" she got the human's attention. "We've got a problem."

"What sort of problem?" Mims asked. Yvian sent her sensor readings to his console. "Shit." Instead of the dozen fighters they'd been expecting, there were three Vrrl Bloodwing cruisers a mere three hundred kilometers from their position. And something bigger. An elongated diamond, six kilometers in length. One half of the diamond was much longer than the other, giving the ship a dagger like appearance. Sensors detected three hundred and fifty five weapon placements along the vessel, including two massive cannons. The cannons were similar to the Ion Roarcannons she'd seen on cruisers, but bigger. The hull was the color of blood.

"A goddamned Pridewing Destroyer," Mims cursed. "I knew I should've worn the brown pants today."

"The what?" Yvian asked, confused. The human had never mentioned fashion before. She'd never seen him wear anything but his GR17 voidarmor. She supposed he wore clothes underneath it, but she had no idea why the color would be significant.

"The brown pants," he told her. "Like in the.." He trailed off. He couldn't see her face, but he could read the confusion in her posture. "You know what? Nevermind." He shook his head. "It's not a reference I want to explain."

The ship's comm pinged. The Destroyer was hailing them. Mims accepted the call. "Human," a deep, resonant voice growled. "I am Skrell Scathach, First Hsst of the Priderender, Third Warmaster of the Starfang Empire. For what reason does the Federation interfere with our hunt?"

"I am Captain Mims of the Random Encounter," the human replied. "I don't represent the Federation in this matter. I am not welcome in Terran space."

"A prideless outcast?" scoffed the Warmaster. "I find that hard to believe."

"You don't have to believe. It's easily verified," Mims replied. "Ask any human about Mark Mims. Or you can talk to the Oluken. They probably know the story."

The Vrrl gave a rumbling grunt. "You still haven't answered my question, human. Why have you interfered?"

"I'm a privateer," Mims told him. "I was hired to protect one of the stations in this sector."

"One of the Confederation's pet pirates?" Scathach harrumphed. "Perhaps you are an outcast, after all." He released a low, menacing growl. "Now answer me this, human. What have you done with the Fleshripper? My hunters say it disappeared without a trace after boarding your carrier."

"That carrier was equipped with an experimental system called a Jumpdrive," Mims answered. "Let's you enter the Jump Effect from anywhere and come out at the Gate of your choice. Since the Fleshripper'd clamped on to the Paradigm Shift when it jumped, it got dragged along into the Jump Effect. I jumped them both into Xill space. They're debris now."

"And I suppose your Random Encounter has one of these Jumpdrives, as well?" Scathach guessed.

"It does." Mims confirmed. "That's how we got back."

"Hmm..." Skrell Scathach "Interesting. Are these...Jumpdrives... a common device?"

"They're rare and expensive," said Mims. "You can build an entire Carrier for less than it costs to own one. I figure there's less than a thousand in all of Confed space."

"That makes you a prize worth taking," remarked the Warmaster.

"Good," Mims replied, cold as the void. "My job's easier if you come to me."

Scathach laughed, a rumbling, coughing noise that froze Yvian's blood. "Is that so? Do you really think one little human can destroy the Priderender by himself?"

"Of course not," said Mims. "There are three of us." Scathach laughed again.

"Ah, human..." Warmaster Scathach chuckled. "What a fine trophy your bones will make. Only once in a great while do the softpaws give rise to such worthy prey. It's been decades since a Scargiver has been found." The Vrrl sighed. "I wish I had time to hunt you properly. I suspect chasing you and your experimental teleporter will take longer than I've allotted for this hunt. Once the evacuation of the Deathgrip is complete, we return to the Empire." He sighed again. "Unless you'd like to interfere with our withdrawal?" he asked. There was an odd, hopeful yearning in his voice. "That would give me cause enough to chase you..."

Mims chuckled. "Sorry, Warmaster. Not this time." He laid in a course, and the Encounter accelerated towards Migo's shipyard. "That's not part of my contract, and I'm on something of a time limit, myself."

"Pity," Scathach rumbled. "But there will be other hunts. I will remember what you did here today, Mark Mims of the Random Encounter. The time will come when I can give you the hunt you deserve."

"I will remember you as well, Skrell Scathach, First Hsst of the Priderender," Mims sounded strangely amiable. "When that time comes, we'll see who hunts who." The Warmaster gave one more pants wettingly terrifying laugh.

When the transmission ended, Mims slumped forward, exhaling in relief. "That," he remarked, "Went a lot better than I thought it would."

Yvian stared at the sensors. The Vrrl ships neither moved nor targeted the Encounter as it passed. The Vrrl fighters they'd been expecting were over at the cruiser Mims had disabled earlier. They had clamped onto the now derelict vessel with their metal arms. She assumed they had boarding parties sweeping the ship for survivors. She doubted they would find very many. The backfire of the Ion Roarcannon had probably burnt most of the crew to a crisp.

"What would have happened if they decided to come after us?" Lissa asked.

"We'd use the Jumpdrive to bounce around the sector." The human removed his helmet, grimacing. Lissa removed hers as well. Yvian couldn't take her helmet off, not with MOBILITY PROTOCOL active, but she retracted her mirrored visor. "We don't have the firepower to take on that many capitol ships, but we could keep them busy. Eventually the Confed Military would show up, assuming the Vrrl didn't kill us with a lucky shot."

"Then why did you look so worried?"

"Because it would mean I'd be stuck here for hours, probably days," Mims wiped the sweat off his brow. "Maybe longer. I'd have to send you to the Federation by yourselves and hope they didn't blow you out of the sky." His brow furrowed further as he glared at the Pridewing Destroyer on the sensor display. "And Scathach is a name I know. He's one of the Vrrl's best generals. Odds are he'd find a way to kill me."

"We could have just left, you know," Lissa pointed out. "It's not like they could stop us."

"Then they'd be free to take the shipyard," Mims shook his head. "I would fail the contract."

"But if you stayed here, you'd fail your contract with the Xill," Yvian said. "All of humanity would die."

"Or be enslaved," Mims acknowledged. "I know. I just... I can't abandon a contract." He slumped, staring at nothing. "I can't fail. I.. I can't fail. Never." He sat back up, pain and sorrow flashing through his features before his face went slack again. "Never fail. Never." He fell silent, eyes focused on things the sisters could not see.

Yvian shared a worried look with her sister. Humans had a reputation for mental instability. Mims was infamous for it. He was known far and wide as the Madlad. Even other humans thought he was crazy. But the Captain had seemed more than stable. He'd been a cold, unflappable rock in the torrent of chaos that had been their lives. She'd taken vast comfort in his matter of fact demeanor, his efficiency, his absolute belief in himself. Mims was a man who always knew what to do. Now Yvian was beginning to think his confidence, his frightening clarity, might not be the proof of his sanity she'd taken it for. They might be symptoms of the opposite. Captain Mims might really be insane.