"The good news is life support still works." Yvian looked up from the panel at her sister's approach. Lissa's voice was annoyingly upbeat, considering the trouble they were in. "We've got air and heat."

"What's the bad news?" Yvian replaced the panel cover. The cover refused to latch in place. She gave it a smack, but the force of the blow sent her spinning towards the other end of the bridge. She cursed, scrabbling for a handhold. Yvian was not used to working in zero gravity.

"The bad news is that nothing else does. No engines, no comms, no artificial gravity..." Lyssa smirked, standing easily in her magnetic boots. They only had one pair between them, and she'd claimed she needed them if she was going to examine the engine. Yvian was tempted to throw something at her, but settled for an annoyed look. She didn't want to make any more forceful motions until they got the gravity working again.

"Do we know the cause? How'd the engine look?" Life support meant they weren't in immediate danger, but it didn't get them any closer to Prisna III. Yvian had scrimped and saved for ten years to make the down payment on The Wandering Lady and load up a cargo. If she didn't deliver before the price went down she'd be destitute.

Lissa shrugged. "Nothing wrong with it that I could see, but it won't power up. And since it won't power up, I can't run a diagnostic. But I think something else is wrong. Even with the engine offline, we should be able to run comms and sensors off reserve power. The way everything's shut down, I think we've got some kind of computer problem."

Yvian cursed. "I was trying to check into that, but the computer won't boot up. Not even after I bypassed the consoles and tapped in directly."

"You think we've been hacked? Some kind of virus?"

"I don't see how," Yvian scratched her head. Then she realized she was floating away from the computer panel she'd been holding onto. "We weren't connected to anyone when it happened." She reached for the panel. Her fingers bumped it instead of grabbing, and she was propelled away. She folded her arms as she floated towards the center of the bridge, slowly turning upside down. Her sister wisely covered her smile with her hands. "No alarms, either. Everything just stopped working out of nowhere."

"Maybe it's pirates," Lissa suggested.

"It's not pirates."

"What if it is?"

Yvian sighed. She reached a hand out to her sister. Lissa latched on and helped her get back to the computer panel. "We're in a major shipping area. The Confederation patrols here all the time. There aren't any pirates."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Lissa pointed past the computer console. Behind it was a large view port. "Because it looks like pirates to me." A ship was approaching. It was massive. It was covered in weapons. It was escorted by three smaller ships covered in weapons. The Pantydropper was painted on the side of it in enormous glowing pink letters.

A thrill of fear shot down Yvian's spine. "Shit. It's pirates."

Ten minutes later found the sisters in the cargo bay. Lissa had a rod of tungsten in her hand. Yvian carried an old PMV3099 blaster pistol. They both wore void suits, in case of decompression.

"It'll be fun, Sis," Lissa dripped sarcasm. "Think of the freedom. The adventure. We'll see the galaxy. We'll be our own boss."

"You didn't have to come, you know." Yvian tried to sound appropriately irritated, but she was grateful for her sister's needling. She was terrified. Neither of them had ever been in a real fight. A little family bickering gave her something familiar to focus on.

"Of course I did. You're helpless without me." Lissa sighed. "I could've been an actress..."

Yvian snorted. "I've seen your audition tapes. You'd starve to death inside of year." She paused thoughtfully. "Or start doing porn videos. Probably porn videos."

"What?" Lissa let out a squeak of outrage.

"You'd be a low rent porn star." Yvian told her.

"I would not! I'd be famous and successful."

"You would do porn."

"It's a respectable profession," Lissa huffed.

"Sure it is."

The ship shuddered. A loud clanking sound announced the pirates had connected to the airlock. Yvian gripped her blaster tighter. "Ok. They're here. Do you remember the plan?"

Lissa nodded. "It's not much of a plan, though."

"It's the best we've got. Lets get in position." Lissa moved to the side of the airlock, knuckles white on her chunk of metal. Yvian pulled herself to the top of a cargo container. She gripped one edge to hold her body as close to the metal as she could, and pointed her blaster at the door. She cursed again about the lack of grav boots and swore to The Crunch she'd buy another pair if they got out of this alive.

The door opened with a hiss. Yvian heard a humming sound, but no footsteps. She kept her weapon trained on the door. What if they had armor? Or combat drones? What if there were too many to fight? Pirates weren't known for their sense of mercy. If they took the ship the best she could hope for was a quick death. She wanted to wipe the sweat from her brow, but she didn't dare take off her helmet. The door had been open for several seconds, now. What in The Crunch was taking them so long?

The humming intensified. A flat cylinder, two feet wide, floated out of the airlock. Lissa started to swing her chunk of metal, but the thing shot her with a bolt of green light. Yvian screamed, firing. Bolts of red energy shattered against its shields. She saw a flash of green light, a sudden pain...

Yvian was back on the bridge. It took her a moment to realized what had happened. The thing that came out the airlock had been a combat drone. It had hit her with a stunbeam. Her body ached. Her head hurt. She gathered herself and tried to take stock of the situation.

Yvian was naked. That was bad. Pixens aren't concerned about nudity in general, but she didn't like the implications of being stripped. Worse, her wrists were stuck to a bulkhead by some kind of restraining device. The rest of her was floating a few feet off the deck. Her sister was a few feet away. Alive, but in a similar state.

Four males stood over them. Two of them were Trelg, with green skin and hairless, ridged scalps. One was a Krog, squat and wide with oversized nostrils and sharp teeth. Metal implants protruded from his head, greasy hair floating around it. But scary as he was, he was nothing compared to their leader. A human.

She had never seen one in person before, but no one could fail to recognize such a notorious species. His skin was pale, with a slight pinkish hue, unlike the pale blue of a Pixen. The top of his head was shaved, but a mass of dark curly hair floated around his hooked nose and cruel lips. Black tattoos traveled in swirls up and down his face.

The mere sight of him set Yvian to shaking. In all the galaxy, there was no creature more fearsome, more lethal, or more depraved than a human. Even the Klaath avoided them. It had been over a hundred years since the Confederation had encountered them, and not a single government had made treaty with the species. Not a single corporation traded with them. Humans were rare in Confederation space, and unwelcome. The few that were seen were always pirates, and always the worst of the lot.

"Well, well, well, look who's awake," the human said with a grin. "We were worried you'd sleep forever. Weren't we boys?" The other pirates snickered.

"H-How," Yvian stammered. "How did you find us?"

"Oh, good question. Most people ask stupid shit like 'what do you want,' or 'please don't hurt me.' But not you." The pirate pointed at her. "I like you."

"Does that mean you'll tell me?"

"Sure. Why not? We've got some time to kill." The human smiled again. "It was old Trisken. The Flerg who sold you this tub. You know they put a repo device in these things, right? You transmit the code and it'll shut down everything but lights and life support. Trisken tells us when he sells something new and gives us the code. We take the cargo and the crew and send the ship back to him, plus a cut of the profits. Everybody wins. Well," he chuckled. "Not everybody. Speaking of cargo, hey Gearhead," He turned to the Krog. "What did these lovely ladies bring for us?"

The Krog tapped the computer console strapped to his wrist. "Textiles."

"Textiles? That's it?" The human grimaced.

"There's a shortage on Prisna III," Yvian explained. "They'll fetch a good price there."

"Do I look like a trade caravan to you?" The human shook his head. "Not that it matters. The real prize is you two little pixies, here. Pixies are a precious commodity, you know."

The bottom fell out of Yvian's stomach. Slavers. Being killed, even being tortured and killed, was nothing compared to the horrors a slave would endure. She'd seen it. The implants a slave receives destroy their will, but not their awareness. The victims see and feel everything that happens to them, but have no way to resist or even speak of it. The implants could not be removed. Death was the only escape from enslavement, and a slave could not even choose to die.

The human noticed her discomfort. "Aww, don't look like that, little pixie. Once we put you in a pod you'll just sleep til the implants are done. You won't even notice. Besides, that's a down the road problem. You've got more immediate concerns."

"What do you mean?" It was Lissa who spoke. Yvian hadn't noticed she was awake.

"Well, like I said before, we've got time to kill." The human gestured at a computer console. Yvian noticed with a start that it was active. "Gearhead's running a program to purge the logs on this rustbucket, but it'll be a few hours til its done. In the meantime, me and the boys could use a little entertainment..."

"Boss," Gearhead interrupted. The Krog tapped at his wrist console. "We got incoming."

"Incoming?" The pirate's playful demeanor evaporated. "The Confed?"

"No, boss." Gearhead stared intently at the display on his wrist. "One ship. Looks like a heavy fighter. No power, no heat. Headed right for us."

"Life signs?" A spark of hope struck Yvian at the question. No life signs would mean a Xill ship. The Xill were sentient machines. They were lethal, hated organics, and tended to exterminate any sentient they came across. If the pirates had to fight it, she might just get the chance to escape. Or it might kill them all, which would at least keep her from being enslaved.

Gearhead tapped a few buttons. "Yeah, boss. Muffled. Just one. Think he's tryin' to sneak on us. Standard sensors wouldn't pick him up this soon, but Gearhead's got the good stuff."

"Well now," The pirate's smile returned. "This day just keeps getting better. Flyboy thinks he can get the drop on Captain Shade, does he? How long 'til he gets here?"

"He'll be in shootin' range in sixteen, boss."

"Good." He turned to the two Trelgs. "Droson, Jib, with me. We'll give this idiot the shock of his life. Gearhead, you watch the girls."

"You sure, boss?" Gearhead was still staring at his wrist console. "Pantydropper fights good."

"Use your head, Gearhead. We got this flyboy three to one already, and our ships are top of the line." The Captain gestured at Yvian and Lissa "These two are what's gonna cause problems. They know what's comin' for 'em. We leave them alone, they're gonna get out of their restraints and jump out an airlock. Dead Pixies don't make good slaves. Make sure they behave."

"Got it, boss." Gearhead looked the sisters over. An eager smile grew.

"And don't play with them." The Captain gave the Krog a stern look. "I don't want you taking any chances 'til I come back. Got it?"

Gearhead let out a disappointed sigh. "Got it, boss."

"Good." Captain Shade walked away. The two Trelg followed in his wake.

Now was her chance. Yvian knew she couldn't overpower four men at once, and she doubted she could pull off an escape under Captain Shade's watchful eye. But one Krog staring at a wrist console? That she could deal with.

She checked her restraints first. The human had said she might get out of them, so it stood to reason there must be a way to do that. The restraints were manacles, tight fitting. They were not connected. They were stuck to the bulkhead. Magnetic, she supposed. She didn't see any buttons or keyholes. Remote controlled, maybe?

The simplest thing would be to trick the Krog into releasing the restraints, or at least get him close enough to grab his gun. But how? Insult him, maybe? Pretend to be sick?

Lissa struck while Yvian was still thinking. "Hey, Gearhead," she asked in a low, sultry voice. "Is it true what they say about the Krog?"

Gearhead looked up from his console. He drew a baton shaped device from his belt. "No talking," he grunted. He pointed it at Lissa and pressed a button. Electricity arced into her. She shook and spasmed.

"Lissa!" Yvian braced her feet against the bulkhead and pulled with all her might. The restraints didn't budge. Gearhead shifted the shockstick and gave her the juice. Her muscles locked and her breath stopped. Crunch, it hurt.

"No moving, neither" Gearhead electrocuted Yvian for several seconds, but it felt much, much longer. Finally, he took his finger off the button. Yvian floated, gasping "Dumbass." Yvian glanced up at her manacles in the hope that the electricity had caused a malfunction. She had no such luck.

Now what? She couldn't very well trick Gearhead if he was just going to shock her every time she spoke. The magnetic seal on the manacles was too strong for her to break, and the manacles themselves were too snug to slip out of. Her head had hurt when she woke up. It was much worse after being electrocuted. She tried to ignore it. She needed to think. She needed a new plan.

She was still drawing a blank when Gearhead's wrist chirped. A voice she didn't recognize came out of his console. "Attention, pirate vessels. This is The Random Encounter. You have been caught performing illegal activity. Your vessels are now forfeit. Surrender or be destroyed."

Captain Shade's voice responded. "This is Captain Sean Shade of The Pimphand. I got a counteroffer for ya. Prepare to get fucked!"

Yvian turned her head to look out the viewport. She saw nothing but space. The action must be elsewhere. She tried looking towards Gearhead's wrist console instead, but he was using a screen instead of holo-imaging. There was nothing to see. The comms were still open, though. She ran her fingers over her manacles, looking for a way to unlatch them as she listened.

"He's coming straight at us. Check that acceleration..." She didn't recognize the voice. One of the Trelg, she assumed.

"Dumbass probably doesn't have AimAssist," It was Captain Shade. "Light him up before he gets in close."

"I can't hit him! How's he dodging all that?"

"Strafe, you dipshit! He's gonna-."

"Jib! No!"

"You bastard! I'm gonna OH SHI-"

"Captain! Wait, No! I surrender! I su-"

Gearhead stared at the screen, frozen in shock. He let out a curse and turned to run. Before he'd taken two steps, his wrist chirped.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Gearhead froze. The voice continued. "That heap your standing in doesn't have shields, and I've got you in my sights. Take another step and you die. Touch that wrist computer and you die. Do anything I don't like, anything at all, and you die. Do you understand?"

Gearhead made a noise somewhere between a frustrated grunt and a howl. "Who are you that flies so good? Are you insane?"

"Me?" the voice was amused. "I'm just a humble privateer. Sane as can be. Now, are you going to follow my instructions, or are you going to be a chunk of charred blood floating in the void?"

"You can't!" The Krog protested. "I got hostages. You blast me, you decompress the ship. You'll kill the Pixens!"

"Not my problem."

"Back off! Fly away." Gearhead pulled a gun from his belt.

"You're not listening."

"Fly away or I'll kill them right now!" Gearhead raised his gun. Yvian braced herself for the shot she knew was coming.

"Warned you."

Light and heat and noise, like a thunderbolt, crashed through the bridge. Yvian cried out, closing her eyes. The thunder of it morphed into the tornado of decompression. Yvian gasped as she was sucked towards the massive hole in top of her ship. The manacles maintained their grip on the bulkhead, keeping her in place, but she felt like her arms would be ripped out of their sockets. She held her breath for a few seconds, panicked, then forced herself to let it out. Once the ship decompressed, any air she held in would expand and rupture her lungs.

The tornado ceased in just a few seconds. Yvian braced her feet against the bulkhead. A Pixen, like most species, could survive the vacuum of space for thirty seconds, forty-five at most. She had just that much time to break free, break her sister free, and make for the airlock The Pantydropper was docked at. She knew she wouldn't make it. She still had to try.

Her skin was freezing, prickling, burning. Her eyes hurt. She could feel saliva boiling in her mouth. She tugged and yanked, willing her damaged arms to work, to break free. She was getting nowhere.

She looked at her sister. Lissa floated, not struggling at all. Her eyes were glazed, face twisted up in pain and horror. The sight of her set Yvian into a frenzy. She wrenched at the manacles. She tried to scream.

Movement caught her eye. A figure shot up through hole in the floor of the bridge. A man in a black voidsuit. Compressed gas shot out the top of his jetpack, bringing him to a stop just before he reached the hole in the top of the bridge. He cast about, and his mirrored visor settled on Yvian. His jetpack reactivated, and he flew at her like a missile. He stopped two feet above her. There was a device in his hand. He reached out and pressed it against her.

Yvian woke up more slowly, this time. She'd expected...well. She'd expected to be dead. Failing that, she'd supposed she'd wake up in terrible pain. Instead, she felt like a million credits. Even her headache was gone.

Even better, she was dressed. In her own clothes, no less. Wait, scratch that. As she looked down at herself she realized it was one of her sister's outfits.

Lissa. Yvian shot bolt upright, hitting her head on the transparent material of the medpod. She crashed back down to a lying position. The machine monitoring her beeped.

"Oh, good. You're awake." The voice was friendly, and sounded familiar. She heard a button being pressed, and the medpod retracted it's cylindrical cover, leaving her lying exposed on an examination table. She looked up to see the man in the black voidsuit. He'd taken his helmet off, and she stared up into a pale face with brown hair and blue eyes.

Human! She reacted without thinking. Her upper body lunged up and forward, right hand darting for his eyes with fingers slightly curled for an eye gouge. He jerked his head back, out of her reach. She used her left arm to swing her lower body around and slammed both feet into his chest. The impact stung her feet. What she'd taken for a voidsuit was actually combat armor. He tottered backwards, coming to a stop with his back and one arm propped up against the medpod behind him.

"Wait," he said.

Yvian did not wait. She had been attacked and abducted and tortured and thrown naked into space. She was terrified and angry and she needed to fight someone and she would not BY THE CRUNCH let another human get the better of her.

She leapt off the table, leading with a right hook. The human sidestepped, hands raised in a placating gesture. "Stop." Left jab to the throat followed by a right elbow followed by a roundhouse kick. He danced out of the way of each them. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"You won't get the chance," she snarled. She went for a grapple.

The human was faster. He caught her wrist and spun her around with crushing strength. He twisted her arm behind her back in a basic wrist lock. "You need to calm-" She pressed the blaster she'd pulled from his belt up against his chin. "-down." He froze.

"Let go of me," Yvian hissed. He released her arm and she spun, backing several steps away from him with the gun pointed at his face.

The human regarded her gravely. "Is it your intention to kill me and take my ship?" He asked.

The question took her by surprise. "What? No! I'm not..." Yvian took a breath. Let it out. "Where is my sister?"

"Three feet to your left." The human gestured at the medpod next to her. "She held her breath during decompression. Her lungs exploded. She'll be alright in an hour or two."

Yvian glanced into the medpod. Her sister lay inside, covered in medical machinery. She was breathing. A surge of relief swept through her at the sight, but this was no time to let her guard down. She kept the blaster sighted on the human, kept the anger in her voice. "Where is my ship?"

The human crossed his arms. "You don't have a ship."

"Don't lie to me!" She aimed the gun slightly away from the man's head and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. She pulled the trigger again. No effect. She stared at it in confusion.

The human kept talking. "The pirates activated a Repo Device on The Wandering Lady. Once that happens, a ship waits exactly thirteen hours. Then it autopilots back to the station it was sold from. Even if you could catch up to it and override the device some how, the ship's registered as repossessed. It'll just get impounded at the next station it lands on. You might as well put that down, by the way." The human gestured at the gun in her hand. "It won't fire unless I'm the one holding it."

Her ship was gone. Yvian was at a loss. The Wandering Lady and her cargo weren't just everything she had in the galaxy. They were her dream. Her freedom. She noticed she was still pointing the blaster at the human. She stubbornly decided to keep doing it. If all else failed, she could always try to club him with the thing.

The human watched her. He spoke again, his matter of fact voice softening just a little. "You can get it back. Go back to the station and file suit against the company for wrongful repossession. If you can prove Trisken sold you out to pirates, it'll be slam dunk case."

"But, that'll take years!" Her voice cracked. "It'll cost thousands of credits. I don't...I don't have..."

"Yeah," the human agreed. "The Confed legal system isn't nice to people that don't have money."

The human blurred in her vision. Yvian wiped her eyes. She could mourn later. Right now she needed to deal with the dangerous creature she was holding at malfunctioning gunpoint. "What were you planning to do to me?" She demanded.

"What?" The man seemed startled by the vehemence of her question.

"You heard me," she growled. "You think I don't know you're violent and sexually deranged?"

"Sexually deranged?" The human sputtered. "Why would you think that?"

"You're human, aren't you?"

The human let out an annoyed breath. "Of course. Let me guess. This is your first time in space and everything you know you learned watching holovision."

"I did my research," Yvian said, defensive. Her arms were getting tired. Keeping a blaster pointed at someone was more work than she'd expected.

"HV is propaganda, and most of what you see on the news is, too. The Confed's a corporate oligarchy disguised as a republic. They don't want people like you to look too close at how the Terran Federation does things. You might start getting any ideas."

"Humans are pirates," Yvian insisted.

"I'm a licensed Privateer."

"That's just a pirate with a license."

"No it's..." He paused. "Ok, a lot of the time it is. But we're not all like that. I make my living hunting pirates, mostly."

"Why should I believe you?"

"Because I saved your life. I saved your sister's life. I even rescued your cargo and personal effects. Doing all that was dangerous and a lot of effort, and I had no obligation to help you. Also," he pulled a second gun from his belt. "If I wanted to hurt you," he waggled it. "I could've done it by now." He put the gun away.

The man had a point. Yvian started to feel a little silly, pointing a gun that doesn't work at an armed human in combat armor. She lowered the blaster. "So what happens, now?"

"Now, I've got a job to finish. Once your sister's done healing I'll take you both to your quarters, where the two of you will be confined. When I'm done here I'll take you and your cargo to Prisna III in exchange for a transport fee of 15,000 credits."

"15,000!" Yvian exclaimed. Her down payment on The Wandering Lady hadn't been that much. "That's outrageous!"

"The price would be lower if you hadn't pointed a gun at me," the human pointed out.

"That's ridiculous," she reiterated. "There's no way I'm paying that."

The human shrugged. "Then I'll seize your cargo in lieu of payment and dump you at the next place I dock."

"You can't do that!"

"I very legally can." The man's voice hardened. "I risked myself on your behalf, and in return I've been attacked, threatened, and insulted. You will return my weapon. You will pay me. You will do so in a respectful manner. If you do not, I'll stuff you in a cryopod and leave you in the crappiest station I can find with nothing but the clothes on your back. Do you understand me?"

"I..." The man was right. Human or not, he had risked his life to save her. She had treated him terribly, and he had been far more patient than she would have been if their positions were reversed. Yvian flushed with shame. "You are right."

Yvian lowered herself to her knees. Head still bowed, she pressed her left hand to her heart, raising three fingers, and offered the traditional apology of her people. "Greatly have I transgressed. Lend me your forgiveness, and I shall make amends." She gripped the human's blaster by the barrel and held it out to him.

The human regarded her quizzically. She stayed silent, head bowed. "Huh," he said. "You really mean that, don't you?" She stayed silent, head bowed. The man nodded to himself. "Alright, Pixen. Raise your head. Forgiveness has been lent." He reached out and took the gun from her hand. He put it back in its holster.

The human watched Yvian climb back to her feet. "Why don't we start over?" he suggested. "I'm Captain Mark Mims, of The Random Encounter." He held out his right hand.

Yvian clasped his hand with hers. "Yvian Kiver, Captain, I mean former Captain of The Wandering Lady."

"It's nice to meet you, Yvian." He gave her hand a firm shake and let go.

"Uh...since we're starting over," Yvian wasn't sure she should ask, yet. She decided it wouldn't hurt to try. "Does that mean we can negotiate on the transport fee?"

"Maybe." Captain Mims leaned against the bulkhead. "I've got a proposition for you."

"I prefer the company of women," Yvian said quickly. "No offense."

"Not that kind of proposition." The Captain gave her a dubious look. "Five days ago, slavers hit a passenger transport. One of the people they took is my client's son. She wants him back. The pirates that hit The Lady Wanderer operate in the right area, and they've got the right number of prisoners in cryo, but I need to get into The Pantydropper's logs to make sure it was them and find the pod the kid's in. The problem is," he tapped his head, "My translator's Terran, and it doesn't have the Krog written language. You get me the logs and help me find the bounty, and I'll give you a cut. You're unlicensed, so you'll get apprentice rates, which is ten percent."

Yvian considered. She wasn't sure she should be trusting a human, but so far Captain Mims' conduct had been above reproach, and she definitely needed the money. "What about Lissa?" She asked.

"Your sister?" Mims scratched his head. "She'll have to negotiate for herself."

"She's a mechanic," Yvian pressed. "She could be really useful."

"I'm not saying she couldn't. She'll have to negotiate for herself." He held up a hand when he saw her about to speak. "I mean that literally. She's an adult and she's not under contract with you. You can't legally negotiate on her behalf."

"Oh." Yvian looked at the medpod holding her sister. Lissa was a people person. She could probably talk her way into a better deal then Yvian could. "I want more than ten percent."

"No. But I'll waive your transport fee and help you sell your cargo when we're done. Deal?" He held out his hand.

Yvian shook it. "Agreed."

"Good." The Captain walked away. "I'll go draw up a contract. I'll make a draft for your sister in case she's wants in. Let me know when she wakes up."

As he was about to step out the medbay door, Yvian called out. "Wait! I forgot to ask. How much are we getting paid on this job?"

The Captain stopped. He gave her a crooked smile. "200 credits."

"200?" She must not have heard right. 200 credits would barely pay a docking fee.

"200," he confirmed. "The clients' an old friend. I gave her a discount."

"Discount? You might as well be working for free!"

"I'm a Privateer." Captain Mims shrugged. "I don't do anything for free." He turned to go.

"Wait a minute!" Yvian called after him. "Does that mean I'm only getting twenty bucks?" Laughter echoed down the hallway. She sat on an exam table to wait for her sister, grumbling.

"The only thing worse than a human is a Privateer."