The Privateer

Five thousand warships of the Vrrl Starfang Empire exited the Gate to Brilend Prime. The majority of the fleet was made up of battlecruisers and carriers, each built to resemble a stylized Vrrl in mid-leap. The fanged maws of the Vrrl warships were open, ready to unleash the devastating Ion Roarcannons the Empire was known for. Above each maw were three glowing green eyes, and four arms tipped with razor sharp claws stretched forth from the bodies of the beasts. Yvian knew from personal experience that the arms weren't just for show. They were fully articulate, and used to grab enemy ships in preparation for boarding actions. The back half of the ships were large rectangular blocks, bristling with weapons.

Yvian could only imagine the Military's panic at the sight of so many enemy ships. Vrrl ships were an order of magnitude more powerful than Confederation vessels. Even a small fleet of Vrrl battlecruisers could wipe out a sector, and they were famous for their love of sapient flesh. The Vrrl were nightmares in the Confed, second only to the humans. Even a Xill fleet could not have inspired more dread.

Yvian herself was sitting next to a control node on the Skygem. Mims, Kilroy, and Scarrend were with her. The crystal ship was parked inside the Priderender, Warmaster Scathach's ship. One of the handful of destroyers accompanying the fleet, the Priderender was a six kilometer long diamond. One half of the diamond was much longer than the other, giving the ship a dagger like appearance. It's hull was the color of blood, and it boasted two Roarcannons and hundreds of other weapons.

It hadn't been that long since Yvian had been in the sector, but the Confed had been busy. Between the Militia and the Military, their were over twenty million ships in the system. Civilian craft were still fleeing, streams of ships heading for all three of Brilend Prime's Jumpgates. Those heading for the Gate the Vrrl fleet had jumped through were all scattering and reversing course.

Heavy weapons platforms had been set up throughout the sector. Missile towers were being towed into place, five kilometers around and stuffed to the brim with heavy ordinance. The Military were taking the Vore seriously. Not that it would do them any good.

Nearly a full frantic minute passed before anyone hailed the Priderender. The few thousand Militia ships that were stationed near the Gate were all fleeing. Four million of the closest Military ships had turned, moving to form up with each other so they could engage the Vrrl as a group. Yvian listened in as Warmaster Scathach answered the hail.

"Attention Vrrl ships. This is High Admiral Bruck of the Confederation Military. You are in violation of Confederation space. Leave now or be destroyed."

"This is Warmaster Skrell Scathach," the Warmaster answered. "Sheathe your claws, softpaw. We are not here for you." As he spoke, the Vrrl fleet plotted a course for deep space, in the direction of the incoming Sphere. "It is the Vore we have come to hunt."

"Leave now or be destroyed," the High Admiral repeated. It was a threat the Admiral could back up. The Vrrl fleet was a match for Confed force six times its size, but the Military had them outnumbered four thousand to one.

"We are leaving," the Warmaster told him. "We will exit your solar system in fourteen hours to meet the Vore in deep space."

"Your assistance is unnecessary." High Admiral Bruck spoke slowly, a menacing anger infusing his otherwise professional tone. "Leave our space now, or face the consequences."

"Consequences?" The Warmaster scoffed. "It is you who should consider the consequences, High Admiral Bruck. You do not have the forces or technology to destroy us."

"I've got twenty million ships that say different," Bruck argued.

"And how many of those can match our speed?" asked the Warmaster. "Your fastest capitol ships move at a third the speed of my slowest. Our weapons outrange yours." Skrell Scathach released a rumbling growl. "I'm only bothering to speak to you to keep you from wasting our time. We will hunt the Vore. If we succeed, your planet will be saved. If we fail, we will die." He softened his voice to a more reasonable tone. "I won't ask you to show your belly, softpaw, but I will give you a choice. Leave us to our hunt, and take the time to prepare for the greater enemy. We will avoid your ships and stations, and do all in our power to destroy the Vore." His voice was matter of fact, and scarier for it. "Or you can fight. We will still face the Vore, but we will do so leaving your shattered hulls and broken bodies in our wake."

"Is he bluffing?" Yvian wondered.

"He is the Warmaster." Scarrend said with obvious pride. "He doesn't need to bluff."

"Most of their forces are preparing-" Mims cut himself off as High Admiral Bruck gave his reply.

"Do you really think you can destroy that thing with just five thousand ships?"

"Our weapon has worked once before, High Admiral Bruck," the Warmaster told him. "But I can give no guarantees."

The High Admiral mulled that over. After a few seconds, he said. "Very well. We won't stop you. But if you come near my ships or my stations I will personally blow you out of the sky."

"Well spoken, High Admiral Bruck," Skell Scathach approved. "Perhaps your paws are not so soft after all."

The next twenty hours passed slowly. The Warmaster kept his word. The Vrrl fleet kept its distance from the Confed as it moved into deep space. Yvian slept as best she could. The Skygem's living quarters had been furnished, but the ship's habit of filling itself with methane meant she couldn't remove her helmet and get comfortable.

When she stumbled back out onto the bridge, Mims stood. "My turn. Wake me if anything happens."

"There's no need for such distrust," Scarrend chided. "The Vrrl Starfang Empire honors its agreements."

"I have no way of confirming that," said the human.

"Trust is unnecessary," said Kilroy. "This unit is sufficient to prevent betrayal."

"Normally I'd agree with you." The Captain yawned. "But the Vrrl are just as resourceful as humans, and they know about you. It's possible they could come up with countermeasures."

"I wouldn't let them," said Scarrend. "I've sworn my life to yours."

"I told you I don't want it." Mims stood up and stretched. "To tell the truth, I'm pretty sure no one's going to try anything, but we're sitting in the only weapon we've got that can stop the Vore, along with two of the only three people capable of wielding it. Not to mention that Yvian and I are basically heads of state. A little paranoia seems like a good idea."

"Perhaps." Scarrend gave a thoughtful rumble. "I still think the fission bomb is excessive."

Yvian looked over at the bomb in question. It was a nuclear torpedo. Mims had rigged it to detonate by remote control. Yvian, Kilroy, and the human each carried a detonator. The human and the Peacekeeper seemed casual about it, but Yvian was still nervous about hers. What if it went off by mistake?

"Probably," the Captain admitted. "The bomb will destroy us, the Skygem, and any pieces of it big enough to offer scientific value. It'll take out the Priderender, too, but death threats are sort of wasted on your species."

"My species," huffed Scarrend, "has not broken a treaty once in our entire history."

"Your entire history is less than two hundred years," countered the human.

"Wait, what?" Yvian looked at the Vrrl. "Is that true?"

"You didn't know?" Scarrend cocked his head.

"That can't be right." Yvian tried to scratch the back of her head, but had to settle for scratching the back of her helmet. "How could a species achieve space flight in only two hundred years?"

"We didn't," said the Vrrl. "We took our technology from the gods themselves."

"The gods?"

"The Varma," Captain Mims clarified. He flopped back down in his chair. "The Vrrl are genetically programmed to treat them with respect and reverence."

"Genetically programmed?"

"The Vrrl didn't evolve naturally," said the Captain. "They were bioengineered." He looked over at Scarrend. "You mind if I tell her the story?"

"I suppose." Scarrend leaned back in his chair, folding his upper arms behind his head. "I'm curious to hear it from a human perspective."

"Alright." Mims yawned again. "The Varma were a minor power. They controlled six sectors, and they shared a border with three other species they hated. They sort of bordered the Federation, too, but it was two months travel from their space to ours, so we didn't really interact much."

"The other three nations hated each other just as much as they hated the Varma, so no one was willing to form an alliance, and no one was willing to commit to a total war knowing the other species would jump in and genocide their asses at the first opportunity. It was a stalemate that had lasted for centuries."

"The Grinjaw, the Yauwen, and the Holii," Scarrend provided. "Villains and weaklings, barely worthy of being called prey."

"If you say so." Mims moved on. "Anyway, the Varma weren't particularly advanced with ships and weaponry, but they were masters of bioengineering. Mostly because they never outlawed it like most sane species do."

"Isn't genetic manipulation a basic part of medical science?" Scarrend asked.

"Sure," said the Captain. "But experimenting to make new life forms is a whole other thing. Us humans made that mistake a couple of times, and almost got ourselves genocided. Now any attempt to make new creatures or 'enhanced humans' is met with immediate and overwhelming force."

"Huh," Yvian grunted. "I was taught that humans modified themselves a long time ago. That that's how you became such monsters."

"Propaganda," he told her shortly. "Anyway, the Varma decided to make themselves an army. They picked out the nastiest, scariest predators they could find, and modified the hell out of them. It took half a century, and a lot of horrific experimentation, but they eventually engineered their perfect soldiers. Hyper intelligent, hyper aggressive monsters with a pack mentality and a taste for sapient flesh."

"They designed you to eat intelligent life?" Yvian's eyebrows went up, even though no one would be able to see.

"They designed us to crave it," said Scarrend. He shrugged. "We can survive on animal flesh, but it is far less fulfilling. Similar to how you can subsist on water, but constantly yearn for beer."

"The Vrrl turned out to be a huge success," Mims continued. "Not only were they effective in combat, but they could breed rapidly, and their heightened intelligence led to a serious upgrade in weapons tech. In less than a decade, the Vrrl formed the backbone of the Varma Military. They spent the next twenty years or so hunting the other three species into extinction."

"We consumed the unworthy in the name of the gods," Scarrend agreed.

"Yeah." Mims ran a hand over the back of his neck. "Anyway, the Varma had just started consolidating their gains and taking possession of their three shiny new planets when everything went wrong. Some bigshot decided they didn't need a hundred million Vrrl army anymore. Tried to cull them down to a more manageable number."

"We still don't understand why the gods turned against us," Scarrend admitted. "We'd done everything they'd asked."

"Fear, maybe," guessed the human. "Or maybe they just didn't see you as people. You were a genetically engineered slave army, after all."

Scarrend growled.

"As you can imagine, the Vrrl didn't take kindly to being killed off, gods or no gods." The Captain moved on. "They fought back. The Varma had the upper hand, at first. They'd ordered the Vrrl off their ships before the killing started. The real problems didn't start until some of the Vrrl managed to commandeer a Military ship. They got blown out of the sky, but not before they could get a message out. The half of the Vrrl that weren't supposed to be killed were still out in the void, armed to the teeth and piloting the most advanced ships the Varma could muster. The message told them three things."

"The gods are killing us," Scarrend intoned. "The gods can die..."

"And the gods are fucking delicious," Mims finished for him. "We think it was a side effect of the genetic programming. Any Vrrl who tasted Varma flesh became instantly addicted. The war that followed was barely a war at all. It was more like a feeding frenzy."

"Our people's greatest mistake," Scarrend said mournfully. "My ancestors ate every single god with no thought of the future. Now they are gone, and no Vrrl will ever taste such succulence again."

"And that's why most species don't do bioengineering," the human finished. "Slave armies aren't a good idea in general. Designing them to be stronger and smarter than you is worse. But programming them to eat you?" Mims shook his head. "Ever since we got the story, humans use the phrase 'Varma award' to describe anyone too stupid to live."