The Privateer

It was a long meeting, but not as long as Yvian had feared. The Madame President took charge, asking questions and lining out what she wanted for the delegation to the Xill. Yvian learned her name was Evelyn Wong, and even the High Commander deferred to her.

Yvian remained silent through the meeting. Lissa made as if to speak once, but the High Commander shot her a look, raising a finger to his lips. Mims held his peace for the most part, speaking only when asked a direct question.

After an hour and a half, the meeting ended. The Secretaries, as well as the Directors of XTRO and INTRO (the Internal Terran Reconnaissance Organization) signed off. The Madame President remained on the comm.

"I was on Aldara, you know," The Madame President remarked. "When it happened."

Mims said nothing.

"Why did you come back?" she asked.

"The XTRO outpost was-" Mims began.

"I heard your report," the Madame President cut him off. "I want to know why."

Mims shrugged. "It was necessary in order to complete my objective."

"To complete your objective..." The Madame President spoke slowly, voice filled with a weary disdain. "That is what you do, isn't it?"

Mims said nothing.

"I can't forgive you," she admitted. "I know I should. I tried. But I can't. Even after..." she let out a breath that was almost, but not quite, a sigh. "I can't forgive you. I'm not strong enough."

Mims said nothing.

"Have the attempts started again?" she asked. "Are people trying to kill you?"

Mims hesitated for a moment, then said, "Yes."

"I see." The Madame President was silent for a few seconds, then said, "I hope someone succeeds." There was a chime as she disconnected from the comms.

Mims stared at the High Commander's console. There was a tightness to him, a narrowing of the eyes. Yvian doubted most people would notice, but to her he looked...lost. Then he shook himself, returning to the cold, unflappable bearing that was his default.

The High Commander seemed to notice as well, but chose to address the pixens. "Thank you for remaining silent," he said. "I should have warned you before the meeting started, but it would cause problems if the others knew you were here."

"What kind of problems?" Yvian asked, suddenly worried. "Would we... Would they try to kills us?"

"No." The High Commander snorted. "They're not gonna mess with you while I'm here. But the Secretary of Infrastructure's a xenophobe, and the INTRO Director's paranoid as hell. They'd have derailed the meeting if they knew aliens were listening in." He gave an annoyed sigh. "It's the sad truth of the human condition. No matter how far we come or how much we progress, there will always be assholes."

"Truer words..." Mims agreed.

The High Commander eyed him critically. "How long has it been since you've slept, Mims?"

Mims glanced down at his wrist console. "Fifty three hours."

"You look like shit," The High Commander told him. He gestured towards the door behind him. "I've got a cot in that room over there. Go get some sleep."

Mims hesitated. "My crew..."

"Will be taken care of," the General promised. "I'll see to it personally."

Mims nodded and shambled out of the office. General Young waited until the door closed, then turned to the sisters. "You ladies hungry? I'm hungry." He dropped his rigid posture, leaning back in his chair and crossing one leg over the other. His head tilted slightly as a though occurred to him. "Can pixens eat human food?"

"We can," Lissa told him.

"Food would be good," Yvian agreed.

"Food with beer would be better," Lissa added.

"Beer, huh?" the High Commander's lips tilted somewhere between a smile and a smirk. "I see you're women of culture." He pressed a button on his console. "Hamilton."

"Yes, sir?" his assistant answered.

"Order us three steak dinners from the mess, an apple pie, and a six pack of beer." He considered the sisters, then amended, "Make that a case of beer."

"Sir," Hamilton pointed out, "The regulations clearly state that drinking on duty-"

"I know the regs, Hamilton," General Young interrupted. "Mark me as off duty for the rest of the day. I'll start up again at 0600 hours."

"Yes, sir," Hamilton acknowledged.

"Thank you, Hamilton," said the General. "That will be all."

They sat in silence. Yvian had a number of questions about their status and what would happen next, but she decided they could wait. The High Commander had treated them with respect, and she had the impression he would work to ensure their safety. What she really want to know was...

"High Commander?" she asked.

The High Commander grunted. "I'm off duty." He clasped his hands behind his head, leaning back further in his chair. "You can call me Bart. Or Young, if you prefer."

"Ok, Bart," Yvian said. "Can you tell me what happened at Aldara?" She leaned forward, eyes intent. "Why does everyone want to kill Mims?"

The High Commander (Yvian had agreed to call him Bart, but she couldn't bring herself to think of him that way) cocked an eyebrow. "He didn't tell you?"

Yvian shook her head. The High Commander shifted forward. He placed his elbows on the desk, clasping his hands and propping his chin on them. He regarded them for a few seconds. "I guess I don't blame him. I wouldn't want to talk about it either, if I was him."

"What happened?" Lissa pressed.

"You sure you wanna find out from me?" General Young asked. "Might be better to hear it from your Captain."

"He said to ask around," Yvian told him. "Said he couldn't get drunk enough to tell us."

The High Commander grunted. "That's fair, I guess." He cocked his head, listening. Yvian guessed he was trying to figure out if Mims was still awake. Then he shrugged to himself and said. "It was an Incursion."

He shifted, laying his hands on the desk while the rest of him sat upright. "You know the Klaath. We didn't. The Federation had never heard of portal technology. We figured everyone relied on the Gate system like we did. So when they hit Aldara, they caught us with our pants down."

"Aldara was one of our core worlds, you see." The General's eyes grew distant. "Population of twelve billion. A major economic hub, and one of the prettiest worlds we ever owned. People from all over the Federation would come to see it. We said it was the closest thing we had to Earth that was." He saw the pixens didn't understand the phrase, and explained, "Earth's where we came from. There are a lot of legends saying how it was a paradise, but no one knows for sure. We lost it during the Singularity Wars."

"Anyway," the High Commander continued, "Aldara was a core world. We kept a fleet there, of course, but it wasn't as heavily defended as our border sectors. Why should it be? Anyone that attacked us would have to go through eight sectors just to get to it. But not the Klaath."

"It was a large Incursion. About eighty thousand ships. Our forces focused on defending the stations, at first. It didn't occur to us until it was too late that they might attack the Gates. By the time we figured it out, it was too late to save two of them. The fall of the South Gate cut off our closest source of reinforcements. We had to abandon the stations and commit our forces to the other two or the Klaath would cut us off completely."

"Defending the Gates cost us some ships, but we held up well enough, at first. Some of our stations went down, but the others were well armed enough to keep the bastards at bay. Then the portals opened, and the Frigates and Destroyers popped in. Things got dicey. The big ships organized the little ones, and started hitting targets en masse. They dusted all our remaining stations. An even bigger portal opened up, and a Queenship made its way through"

"The first wave of reinforcements showed up about the time the Queenship made it out of the portal. Seven hundred ships. Top of the line. We sent them straight at the Queen. The fleet shredded every Destroyer and Frigate that stood in their way. The Queen ignored them, at first. It just slowly turned, pointing itself at Aldara. But when they came within eighty thousand kilometers, it opened up."

"Our boys didn't stand a chance. Those beam weapons tore our ships apart one after another, starting with the biggest and working their way down. They tried to retreat, but none of 'em made it out."

"It was about that time that a single interceptor class shrike left the formation at the North Gate. The fleet commander tried to call him back, but didn't get a response. The Commander decided not to pursue. Let the little shit run if he wants."

"The whole fleet was beat to hell, see? They could see the writing on the wall. Destroyers and Frigates were grouping up, making bigger and bigger fleets. Wouldn't be long before they hit the Gate with more ships then our stalwart defenders could deal with. So let the cowardly bastard run if he wants. Not like one little ship'd make a difference anyways."

The High Commander became more animated the longer he talked. Underneath that stern visage was the soul of a storyteller. He started to move around, waving his hands for emphasis. Yvian just stared, entranced by the smooth, deep voice telling the tale.

"What the Commander didn't know was the pilot of that little ship had a plan. A crazy plan. What he didn't have was a way to share that plan. His comms were down. Fuck knows what would've happened if he could've communicated, but he couldn't and he knew he didn't have a lot of time."

"That pilot, one Lieutenant Mark Mims, had figured the big Queenship must be the leader. Mims figured if we could kill it, that might stop the invasion in its tracks. Only problem was, ain't no fucking way we could do that through conventional means. Those beam weapons outranged anything we could throw at it, and they had more power than we'd ever seen. You'd need ten thousands ships just to get close enough to fight the prick."

"But Mims didn't' want to fight the prick. He just wanted it dead. And to make it dead, he figured he could hit it with something too big and too shielded for those beams to take out. So he flew out to the asteroid belt and commandeered himself a station hauler. The belt was a ways out, and Mims had the time to fix enough of his comm system for remote pilot, if not much else."

"As luck and the vast distance of space would have it, only a couple Klusters worth of Klaath had made it out to the belt. That meant the big asteroid mines were all there, still intact. Mims took his stolen station hauler and tractored the biggest one he could find. Then he aimed it at the Queenship and set the acceleration to max."

"Meantime, the Destroyers and Frigates consolidated into one big fucking clump, and a fleet of sixty thousand goddamned ships descended on the North Gate. They rolled right over our defense fleet and tore that Gate to shreds. Then they packed up and headed for the East Gate. Our closest reinforcements were still thirty eight hours away. We knew we were fucked. But about ten minutes before they hit us and killed our last Gate, something happened."

"Now, we didn't know this at the time, but the Klaath don't have sensors like we do. They've got very different sensory organs than us, and they don't need tech to see what's going on in the void. The downside for them is, they got a limited range, which is why they have to get so close to shoot even though they got beam weapons. Mims and that big-ass station got within two hundred thousand klicks of that Queen before they even twigged he was coming."

"When they did, every single fucking Klaath in the sector made a bee line for Mims. Didn't matter what they were doing. Didn't matter if they were too far to get there in time. They went. They went to save their Queen."

"Mims did what he could, protecting his station hauler for as long as he could hold out. He'd had a lot of time to build up some speed, so Scout class Klaath seemed to be the only things fast enough to catch him. When he got within a hundred thousand klicks, the Queenship blew that station hauler to dust. Mims high-tailed it, keeping the station between him and the Queen."

"Our mining stations are automated, and unarmed. As such, and since they've gotta encompass a huge area, they've got some of the strongest shields in the Federation. The Queenship went to work with its beam weapons, but that mine was moving at a hundred and ten kilometers a second. Most of the big fleet put itself between the mine and the Queen, but it wasn't enough. That mine was four times bigger than the Queenship, and it crashed right through the fleet and slammed into it anyway. The shields failed at that point, and the mine busted apart."

"We thought it didn't work at first. The Queens shields held. Pieces of the asteroid flew off in all directions, along with most of the Klaath fleet, but the Queenship was still in one piece. Then the Klaath went wild. Everything smaller than a Frigate started shooting everything else. Even each other. Turns out, the Klaath don't have inertial dampeners. It's what makes the Queenships so slow. The drones that fly the other ships are built tougher, but most of them that got hit by the mine couldn't handle that level of G-force, neither. By the time the little ships had all died or been brought back under control, there were barely ten thousand of them left. And all ten thousand of them went after Mims."

"Mims ran as best he could. His shrike was badly damaged. He'd lost all but one impulse blaster, his shield generator was fried, and his engines were running at half their capacity. But that's still faster than a Frigate can fly, so he was able to stay alive until reinforcements..." The door chimed, interrupting the High Commander. He yelled, "Enter," then finished his sentence as Hamilton entered. "Showed up and we could kill the rest of them."

Hamilton wheeled in a cart with three trays heaping with food. Steak. Mashed potatoes. Corn. Yvian's mouth watered. She took a case of beer from the bottom of the tray and set it on the High Commander's Desk.

"Thanks, Hamilton," said the High Commander, eyeing the food with avarice.

"Do you need anything else before I go off duty?" she asked.

"No, you're relieved," he told her. "You did good today."

"I do good every day, sir," she told him primly.

"That you do," he agreed. "Goodnight, Sara"

"Goodnight, Bart," she said, smiling slightly as she left the room.

They took food and beer and sat back down. "Now where was I?" the High Commander asked himself, cutting into his steak.

"Reinforcements showed up and killed all the Klaath," Lissa prompted him.

"Right." The General raised his fork, then paused, thinking. "Let's eat, first. My momma didn't raise me to talk with my mouth full."

They ravished the food in silence. It was good. Not as good as the Captain's cooking, but Yvian's hunger made up the difference. When they'd finished, they put the trays back on the cart. The High Commander sat back in his chair, cracking open a beer. He looked at it, a solemn expression creeping over his features.

"What Mims didn't know, what none of us knew at first, was that several large chunks of the asteroid were headed straight for Aldara. Normally, planetary defenses wouldn't have any problem dealing with something like that, but the Queenship had blasted those defenses down to balls of molten scrap. Between that and the speed the damned things were going, there was nothing anybody could do but watch."

The High Commander stopped for a swig of beer, eyes distant. He finished the bottle and cracked open another. "The fragments amounted to less than a tenth of the asteroid, but they were big enough. Hundreds of millions were killed in the initial strikes. Most of them were just...vaporized. The impact set off every volcano on the planet. There were earthquakes, tsunamis..." He grunted, drinking some more. "Killed a third of the world's population in a little under six hours. Another quarter of them died before we managed to evacuate the planet. It was uninhabitable now."

He fell silent, staring at his bottle. As the seconds stretched, Yvian tried to think of something to say. She came up empty. The High Commander continued. "Mims didn't find out until he docked on the Musashi. He thought he'd saved the day right up until they arrested his ass. It would be another two weeks before he learned his family was among the casualties. A lot of families were lost that day." The High Commander looked up. "But not all of them." He drank again. "Not all."

"He was court martialed, of course. You can't kill that many civilians and not expect a trial. In the end he avoided execution, but they stripped him of rank and gave him a dishonorable discharge."

"But..." Yvian protested. "But that's not fair. He saved Aldara."

"He killed Aldara," the High Commander corrected. "We're still trying to terraform thirty years later."

"Ok, but if he hadn't done that..."

"Then the Klaath would have taken the sector and killed everyone anyway," General Young finished. "I know. I was there."

"Then why does everyone hate him so much?" Lissa demanded.

"It's complicated." The General sighed. "Look, when something bad happens, humans need someone to blame. A face for their anger to target. The Klaath were a faceless, unknown enemy. They came out of nowhere and all the ones we knew about were already dead. But Mims, well. There was someone we could hate. His behavior at the trial made it easy."

"The trial?" Lissa asked.

The General grimaced. "All criminal trials are publicly broadcast. Mims' court martial was no exception. Even knowing what happened, how desperate everything was, seeing the Kinslayer's cold dead eyes at that trial, it kindled a fury in me. Looking back I can see how broken he was, but at the time..."

He shifted, leaning a hand on his desk. The other hand pointing for emphasis. "Do you know what he said? They asked him how he felt about it. You know, killing everyone he ever loved with a meteor. Do you know what he said?" A cold fury stirred behind the High Commander's eyes. "He said, 'I completed my objective. The cost is irrelevant.' That cold blooded son of a bitch. It still makes my blood boil, thinking about it."

General Young leaned back with a derisive snort. "That line was played over and over again. It was all over the news. People obsessed over it. When he finished his court martial, he was immediately taken into custody by law enforcement. They charged him with six point eight billion counts of manslaughter, plus destruction of property, terrorism, everything they could think of."

"That's when people started trying to kill him. There were six attempts in the first week. He killed everyone that took a shot at him, but that just let the Sector file more charges. They knew it'd be ruled self defense, but they did it anyway. A speedy trial is one of those rights we hold sacred, but the prosecution pushed to postpone the trial for a full thirty days, the maximum delay allowable under the law. They were hoping somebody'd manage to kill his ass before he got his day in court."

"But after nine days in custody, Mims escaped. We organized the biggest manhunt in human history, but the son of a bitch got away, somehow. He was convicted in absentia, and sentenced to death. The High Court overturned the conviction a few years later, because the courts had broken a lot of rules to get it, but by then it didn't matter anymore. Every human with a ship or a gun was looking for the bastard. They didn't find squat. The Kinslayer had vanished." The General took another swig. "There were a lot of rumors, but no one really knew where he went." He set the beer down with a clunk. "Until now." He sat back, the story finished.

Yvian sat in silence, processing what she'd learned. Mims had risked everything to save his home, but he had killed it, instead. He'd killed his family. He'd been hunted and chased and forced to flee from his own species. Yvian couldn't imagine living through any one of those things, let alone all three. Sympathy warred with disgust. Accident or not, he'd killed his family. Any pixen that did such a thing would kill himself. Or be killed by his neighbors...

"Why don't you hate him?" asked Lissa, startling Yvian out of her thoughts.

The High Commander regarded them, silent, grim. Finally he said. "Because I was there." He met Lissa's eyes, than Yvian's. He slumped back in his chair with a sigh. "And because my family lived. Pass me another beer, would ya?"