The Privateer

The steel robed krog sat, listening to the calls for the human's blood. Yvian half expected the rest of the yells to resolve into an organized chant, but the cries of outrage remained a disorganized frenzy. The human in question stood impassively, back straight, hands clasped behind his back. If he was concerned about pissing off the entire Board of Masters with just one word and a shrug, he did not show it. Yvian tried to emulate his calm confidence, but couldn't help glancing around at the nearly two hundred burly sharp toothed beings surrounding them. Lissa was doing a better job. She stared straight ahead, face serene. Yvian wouldn't have noticed the subtle tension in her shoulders if she hadn't known her so well.

The steel robed krog, who Yvian decided to think of as the Chairman, waited for fifteen or twenty seconds. Then he raised his steel orb and brought it crashing down onto the surface of the desk in front of him. The gong sound it made reverberated through the amphitheater. The other krog fell silent.

"Mimsey-cake," the Chairman ordered. "Explain. Talk good or we kill."

Captain Mims nodded and spoke. "I'm a privateer. My only loyalty is to my crew." He paused. "And whoever's paying me, I guess." The Board started muttering. Mims spoke louder. "That said, I incurred obligations when I became a part of House Tallest. I follow krog law. I obey the Tallest, within reason. I will fight to protect the krog. You've seen it. The fleet I brought to the Incursion..."

The Captain grimaced, then continued. "It took twenty years to put that fleet together. No one sells ships to a human. Every single ship in that fleet is one I personally captured. Personally repaired and outfitted. You are the Board of Masters. You know what it means to give your blood, your sweat, to put your life on the line in pursuit of a project. That fleet was mine."

"When Fightsmart asked for control of my fleet, I could have said no. When the Trelg Miltia asked for control at Milvari, I told them to go fuck themselves. But I gave Master Fightsmart my life's work. I didn't hesitate. Even knowing I wouldn't get it back."

The Board of Masters had fallen silent. Mims continued. "But it's not loyalty. Loyalty's like love. It's a commitment and an emotion. I look loyal. I do what a loyal krog does. But I don't feel a damn thing. I'm just honoring an agreement." He met the Chairman's eyes, then swept his gaze over the others. He tilted his head, then said. "In some ways that's better. Loyalties can change, but I've never violated an agreement."

The Board of Masters muttered among themselves at this. The Chairman turned to Lissa.

"Prettypants, you think like Mimsey-cake?"

"The only krog I met before the Incursion was a pirate who tortured me," she told him. "I don't know the krog enough to be loyal, but I'll honor the agreement just like the Captain."

The Chairman looked at Yvian. "Blockhead?"

She still hated that name. "I'll honor the agreement," she told him.

The Chairman looked around. "Anyone want kill Blockhead or Prettypants?"

There was some muttering, but no one spoke up. The Chairman nodded to himself. "Mimseycake?"

Several krog shouted about killing the human. The Chairman nodded to himself, then raised his sphere. He slammed it down on the desk to make the gong sound again. "Does Board kill Mimsey-cake? Vote now."

Each krog pressed a button. Orbs of light appeared above each desk. The vast majority of the lights were red,, but there were a smattering of yellow lights, as well.

The Chairman grunted. "Board has spoken. Not kill Mimsey-cake yet."

"Not Mimsey-cake!" A blue orb appeared over the desk of the krog that shouted. "Mims! Not krog. Wicked pervert human!"

A blue orb appeared in front of King Tallest. "Shut face, Knifehands," he growled. "Mimsey-cake be Named."

"Only Krog be Named," Knife-hands countered. "Wicked pervert humans not krog. Stupid slutty pixens, neither!" He waved his hands at the rest of the Board. "Krog are strongest. Krog are best. Only krog are krog."

"Krog are who I say be krog," said Tallest. "Word of Tallest is law."

"Tallest is dumbass!"

"Tallest is King," growled the ruler of the krog. "Tallest is Master."

Yvian wanted to say something, but she didn't dare interject. They had been specifically instructed not to speak unless asked a question. Mims felt it, too. A slight tension had crept into the Captain's shoulders. He caught her glance and took a small breath, forcing himself to relax. If there was one thing the human hated, it was not being in control.

"Tallest is dumbass!" Knifehands repeated. "First wicked pervert human, then stupid slutty pixens. What next? Find stinky poo, say stinky poo is best at stinking? Name stinky poo, make stinky poo krog?"

"Stinkiest poo already krog," the King told him. The other krog chuckled. "Knifehands say krog best. Strongest. Who stronger than Mimsey-cake?"

"Everyone!" Knifehands insisted. "Wicked pervert humans weak."

"Knifehands stronger than Mimsey-cake?"

"Yes!"

"Good." the Tallest smiled. "Prove. Go kill Mimsey-cake."

Captain Mims maintained his relaxed stance, but his eyes moved to regard Knifehands. Knifehands eyed him in return. He looked nervous.

"What problem?" King Tallest's grin widened. "Knifehands not afraid of weak wicked pervert human, is Knifehands?"

"Not afraid!" snapped Knifehands. A red light flashed and a klaxon sounded. The truthiness box activated, showing the krog's lie for all to see.

The room went silent. Every krog stared at Knifehands. The krog stared at the truthiness box with a horrified expression.

"Master Knifehands," intoned the Chairman. "No lies in Hall of Masters. Lie again, lose certificate. Not be Master no more. Got it?"

"Yes, Grandmaster," Knifehands looked down, mortified.

"Is Knifehands scared of Mimsey-cake?" Tallest asked again.

Knifehands glared. "Humans weaker than krog."

"Should be scared," said the Tallest. "What trade does Knifehands?"

Knifehands glowered at the King. "Tallest knows. Knifehands master of weapon design. Make best guns."

"Mimsey-cake?" Tallest asked. "What trade does you?"

"My trade is violence."

"Do good?"

"I'm the best there is." The Captain made it a statement of fact, with no semblance of pride or humility.

"See?" said the King. "Knifehands make guns. Mimsey-cake is gun. Knifehands not strong as Mimsey-cake."

"Humans weaker than krog!" Knifehands insisted.

"Then prove." The King of the Krog pointed down at the human. "Go kill Mimsey-cake."

"Master Tallest," the steel robed krog warned, "Knifehand is Master. No deathfight Masters."

"No problem," the King assured him. "Mimsey-cake, no kill Knifehands. No hurt Knifehands bad. Got it?"

The Captain bowed with outstretched palms. "Understood, my Tallest."

"See? No problem," the King assured the Grandmaster again. He turned back to Knifehands. "Knifehands say stronger? Go prove."

Knifehand looked around, seeing the expectant gazes of his peers. Realizing he had no choice, the krog stripped off his red robe. He walked down to the Captain's platform in black pants and a purple tank top. A pair of black bracers circled his wrists. Like all krog, Knifehands was wide and hairy. His expansive bulk gave him a squat appearance despite being only a few centimeters shorter than Captain Mims. His arms were masses of muscle, and he probably outweighed the human by over fifty kilograms.

A glance to the side revealed Mims had removed the top half of his void armor. She'd never seen him out of it, before. His torso was as pale as his face, with dark hair running from his belly button into a thick patch stretching across his chest. He always looked lean and predatory, but his build was thicker and sturdier then Yvian would have guessed. He stepped out of his boots and removed the bottom half of the armor, revealing a pair of black shorts. He piled up the armor and tossed it off the platform.

At a gesture from Mims, Yvian and Lissa stepped down from the platform. Knifehands stepped up.

Mims shifted his feet, settling into a fighting stance but leaving his hands at his sides. Knifehands snarled and flicked both wrists. Blades sprung out of his bracers. Yvian saw ribbons spring out along with them. The ribbons of metal lashed the blades to Knifehand's hands, protecting his knuckles and causing the blades to protrude twenty centimeters past his fist.

Yvian had expected the Grandmaster to say when the fight should start. Knifehands didn't wait. He charged forward, punching and slicing with his knife hands. Mims kept his hands at his sides. Crunching his abs to move his torso to one side or the other, he stepped and slipped around the blades. Knifehands growled and tried harder, his swings getting wilder as the human danced around him. Finally he lunged forward, one arm fully extended to drive his blade through the Captain's heart.

The Captain burst forward as well. One arm knocked Knifehands' arm to the side as he closed the distance. The human wrapped around the arm, locking it behind the krog with one arm snaked around his shoulder while the other circled his elbow to grasp the back of his forearm. Mims gave a sharp jerk, eliciting a yowl of pain. He released the arm and stepped away, still in his fighting stance.

Knifehands glared at the human. His arm dangled uselessly, shoulder shattered. Mims regarded him coolly, hands at his sides, feet shoulder width apart with the left foot in the lead. The Board of Masters shouted encouragement at both of them.

"Get him, Mimsey-cake!"

"Kill the human!"

"Stab him! Stab good!"

"Break other arm!"

With something between a pained grimace and a snarl, Knifehands came forward again. His left arm punched out in quick motions, trying to stab without letting the human grab him. Mims danced around the blade. Knifehands attacked carefully, with small motions. His footwork tightened as well. He advanced with small steps, ready to shift direction quickly if the human counterattacked.

At the tail end of a slash, Mims took a quick step forward. His leg snapped up, uncoiling a kick that slapped across the Krog's jaw. Knifehands stepped back with a grunt, and Mims skipped forward again, slamming the center of his shin into the side of the krog's leg. He struck the small muscle just above Knifehands' knee. With a surprised grunt, Knifehands fell.

Mims was on him before he could do anything else. He locked the krog's remaining arm behind him in the same position as before.

"Stop!" barked the Grandmaster. Mims froze. Knifehands continued to struggle, but he only had one good arm and the human had it locked down tight.

"Fight over," the Grandmaster said. "Knifehands needs working arm to vote."

Mims said nothing. He hadn't been asked a question. Knifehands continued to struggle. Mims kept his arm locked. Knifehands started swearing, demanding the Captain let him go and promising to kill him.

"Master Knifehands!" snapped the Grandmaster. "Fight. Over." Knifehands stopped moving.

"Mimsey-cake, let go."

Captain Mims released the krog's arm and stepped back. Knifehands tried to stand, but his leg wasn't working. The Grandmaster sent a pair of guards to help him up and take him back to his seat. Mims got dressed as they did so.

Once Knifehands was properly seated, King Tallest spoke again. "Krog strongest. Krog best." He pointed at Mimsey-cake. "Mimsey-cake strongest and best. Human more worthy than krog?" He shook his head. "Can't be. If Mimsey-cake worthy as krog, Mimsey-cake must be krog. Only way krog stay best."

Admiral Fightsmart activated his own blue orb. "If Mimsey-cake not made krog, Mimsey-cake not bring fleet. Krog Prime die. Board of Masters die. Krog end up like stupid slutty pixens. King Tallest right to let Bossypants Name Mimsey-cake. Mimsey-cake is wicked pervert human, but still be good krog. Stupid slutty pixens be good krog, too."

King Tallest continued. "Tallest say vote. Decide if wicked pervert humans and stupid slutty pixens be krog or not. Is krog born or is krog Named?"

The Grandmaster banged his desk gong again. "Agreed. Are Mimsey-cake, Blockhead, and Prettypants krog? Vote now."

The Board of Masters pressed their buttons. Nearly two hundred orbs of light appeared over their desks. Nearly all the lights were yellow. Knifehands and twelve others had the red lights of refusal.

The Grandmaster grunted. "Board has spoken. Mimsey-cake is krog. Prettypants is krog. Blockhead is krog."

The King of the Krog sneered at the scowling Master with a broken shoulder. "See, Knifehands? Now who's ass is dumb?"