The Privateer

"Understand," the Qeevo Elder burbled. "We are not an aggressive species. We are nowhere near as savage as the Vrrl and the humans. But we are not weak, and some things cannot be allowed to exist."

"I know the implants are horrible," said Lissa. "But we-"

"Horrible!" The Elders rumbling gurgle thundered with anger. The translation provided by Yvian's wrist console was devoid of emotion, but there was no mistaking the rage in the Oluken's voice. The frills on his neck and arms flared, waving menacingly. "Horrible. Do you not know? Do you not know what happens to these people you make slaves?"

"I never enslaved anybody," Lissa protested. "We just-"

"Trapped!" the Oluken thundered. "Tortured! Paralyzed! The implant causes constant pain, and removes the ability to express it. The victim is moved like a puppet, forced to experience everything at all times. They cannot hide from it. They cannot escape it. With the implant in control, they are unable even to die! Even madness offers no escape, though we suspect the victim's mind will break within the first few weeks. These 'slaves' suffer on a level you can barely imagine. This is what you have wrought!"

Yvian looked over at Lissa, who had started to cry. Yvian knew she was supposed to leave diplomacy to her sister, but the horror on Lissa's face filled her with anger. "We didn't do this, you fuck!" Her voice echoed through the chamber. "We came to you for help!"

The Elder began to burble something in response, but the Oluken next to it slid tendrils across its frills. The other Elder said, "Perhaps you didn't do this, yourselves, but your people are still responsible. This technology did not spring up out of nowhere."

"My people are victims!" Yvian didn't like admitting it, but this was no time for ego. "Our world was destroyed. Our possessions stripped from us." Lissa had broken into sobs. Righteous fury filled the pixen as she spoke. "They killed our Homestar, turned Nialla into the Crunch! We have nothing! We live in fear, praying to a God who might be dead! We sell ourselves for pleasure to the people that took everything, and every day the Enforcers come, and they kill us, or take us away and stick those fucking implants in our heads." She felt the tears fall as she shook her fist at the Oluken. "No one helps us. No one! The only person that ever cared was an exiled human. And now, the ONE TIME WE ASK FOR HELP, you want to kill us too!? Fuck you!" Yvian spit on the deck. "FUCK YOU! Fuck all of you. You fucking-"

"SIS!" Lissa's voice cracked like a whip. Yvian turned to see shock and fear on her sister's face. Only then did Yvian realize what she had done. The Oluken were Yasme's only hope. They were a power even the Vrrl didn't want to cross. They were already inclined to kill Yvian and every other pixen, and Yvian had just screamed profanity at them. Fuck. The Elders were staring, frills flared and shaking. Fuck! Why was she so bad at diplomacy?

Lissa wiped some of the snot dripping down her face, then tried to placate the Elders. "I'm sorry. We're sorry." Yvian heard chimes as her sister looked down, wiping at her eyes. "It's just... We just wanted you to save our Mom."

One of the Elders hissed something. Yvian's wrist console translated in monotone. "Lies."

"What?" Lissa looked up. "I didn't..." She trailed off as the chiming sounded again. It was coming from the consoles of the Elders.

"Lies," the Elder repeated. "You are not sorry at all. You are just afraid."

One of the Elders spoke up. "We should kill them and be done with it."

"Kill them?" scoffed another. "And what? Immerse our heads in the water? Ignore the abominations?"

"Their space is far from ours," a third Elder pointed out. "We do not have to intervene."

"It is a taint in the Lifestream," the second Elder declared. "It is corruption the likes of which have never been seen."

"It is far away," the third Elder repeated.

"Distance means nothing to the Lifestream," a fourth Elder spoke. "When you resume the Great Journey, will you risk being born into such a horror?"

"Only the unworthy would be subjected to such a thing."

"And how worthy will you be, Nilga?" asked the fourth, "What is the worth of one who would murder these innocent beings?"

"We are getting off subject," the Elder on the far right spoke. "We are here to question the pixens. Let us acquire the relevant information before we decide our course." Three of the Elder's eyestalks shifted to the sisters. "But we will not tolerate any further outbursts." His frills rattled as he waved his tendrils at them. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," said Lissa. Yvian nodded, frowning.

"Very well," said the Oluken. "You have made some concerning statements about your species. Let's start with that."

Yvian shared a look with her sister. Lissa gave her a nod. Together they sang. "Now will I tell you the tale of our people, as it was told to me. Someday you will tell it to your children, and they to theirs, that the memory of Pixa will never fade, and the villains that laid us low not be forgotten. Listen well, and remember."

They sang of the Pixen Technocracy. Of the Kleg's betrayal and the death of the Homestar. The Confederation protected the monsters that did it, but the pixens took their revenge, anyway. They sang of the war that followed. A war the pixens lost.

"We faced the High Court once more. The Magistrates declared us guilty of genocide and insurrection. They decreed that all pixens were guilty of these crimes, for no pixen had raised a hand to stop them. All would suffer and all would pay. From those of us that had, all was taken. Those that had not were taken themselves, to be sold as chattel. Pixens would be citizens no longer, but refugees, dependent on the succor of other species.

We who were proud have been laid low. We who were strong have been made weak. We who were betrayed have been made dependent. Yet, for all that we have lost, two things remain. Memory and hope.

Our world is lost, but our people remain. Our star is gone, but the Bright Lady lives. She wanders the void, seeking a new Homestar, that Nialla may be reborn. The souls of our people will find her, and the worthy will join her in her quest. Our people have not perished, and we will find glory again.

You are of Pixa. You are the hope of our species. You must be strong. You must be good. You must be worthy. The Bright Lady waits for those who live well, arms open in welcome, but the wicked will be judged. The unworthy will be cast into The Crunch, to be crushed in shame and darkness til the end of time. Listen well, and remember. You are of Pixa."

Yvian listened to the last echoes as they finished their song. The eyestalks of the Elders drooped, frills lowered. Lissa let the silence sit for a moment, then said. "So that's how it is. Before the Darkening there were forty billion pixens. Only three hundred million of us are left. Less every year."

"We didn't make the implants," Yvian added, "and we don't take slaves. Crunch, fighting slavers is the main thing we've been doing with Mims."

The chimes sounded. Oh, Crunch.

"Why keep lying when you know we will know?" asked Nulon. Yvian had forgotten he was standing off to the side.

Yvian bit off the first thing she was about to say. It would have been another lie. She sighed. "Habit, I guess. We're honest with Mims and with each other, but everyone else? It's dangerous to trust."

"You two know more than you have let on," the Elder known as Nilga surmised. "You will tell us."

Lissa shook her head. "I don't think we can do that."

"I don't think you have a choice," said Nilga. "If you do not tell us willingly, we will extract the information in other ways."

Yvian bristled, but before she could speak her wrist console chirped with a comm request. It was Mims. "It's the Captain," she told the room. She answered the comm before they could object.

"It is not the Captain." The smooth voice of Exodus the Genocide slithered through the room. "I am merely borrowing his frequency for a moment."

The Elders raised their frills. The Elder Yvian had pegged as the nice one demanded, "What is the meaning of this?"

"The meaning of this," Exodus informed her, "is opportunity. I am the synthetic intelligence the humans refer to as Exodus the Genocide. I am a spokesperson for the Xill." The Elders reacted violently, vibrating their frills and bobbing their eyestalks. "Worry not. I'm not here to send your species on their next Great Journey. If anything, I'm here preserve the Lifestream, but we can talk about that later. For now, I'm just here to grant permission." All eyestalks swiveled to the sisters.

"Permission?" Yvian asked.

"Honestly, Yvian," the Genocide tsked. "Do try to keep up. I'm giving you permission to share with the Oluken. Tell them everything." A brief pause. "Actually, I think Lissa should do most of the talking. Try to be convincing, dear. We want the Oluken to join our cause."

"Uh..." Lissa blinked. "I'll do my best?"

"I should hope so," the Xill quipped. "Do not fail me in this, ladies. Tools that are not effective tend to be discarded."