They should have brought bigger guns. As the ramp lowered, Yvian longed for the comforting weight of a BFG14 plasma gatling gun. Instead she carried her standard kit. Blaster pistol, stunshot, and a BR24 assault rifle. The only addition the Captain had allowed was the nanocarbon katana strapped to her hip. It was the only thing she carried that would be of use against a Vrrl. Guns would be almost useless against their armor and personal shields.

Yvian and Mims waited until the boarding ramp reached the deck. In front of them were two lines of Vrrl hunters. About the size of a pixen, and pixen shaped, except for an extra pair of long, heavy arms. The Vrrl were outfitted in black armor, with razor tips at the end of each digit. Their helmets had clear face shields instead of mirrored visors, revealing heavy muzzles below three eyes that reflected the light. They were still, but not rigid, standing in a half crouch that gave the impression they could burst into motion at any moment. Yvian's heart rate increased at the sight of them. The last time she'd seen a Vrrl, it had been tearing open her insides.

Another Vrrl in red armor stood in front of the two rows. It stepped forward. "Scargiver," it growled. Yvian thought its deep rumble of a voice meant it was a male, but she couldn't be sure. "Pixen. Come. We will take you to the Warmaster."

Mims gave the thing a nod and started down the ramp, cold and calm as always. Yvian tried to emulate him, thankful that her voidarmor was a closed environment. She'd heard the Vrrl could smell fear. She didn't want them to smell hers.

The Vrrl in the rows broke formation. Six of them fanned out to lead the way. Six of them fanned out to guard the rear. Yvian didn't know if they were meant as an honor guard or simply there to prevent an escape. The Vrrl in red fell into step beside the Captain. Mims spared the creature a glance, then continued forward, ignoring its presence.

They took a lift to another part of the station. When they stepped off the elevator, Yvian expected to be led to the station's control center. Instead, they were brought to a promenade at the top of the station. A single Vrrl stood in the center, gazing out the massive set of viewports that served as the promenade's far wall and ceiling.

The Vrrl in the center was unarmed, and unarmored. It was a massive brute, closer to three meters tall than to two. Its fur was white. Its mane was red. Its upper set of arms were nearly as big as Yvian's waist, and its lower arms outsized her legs. Both were folded behind his back. Its feet were bare, its retracted claws barely visible beneath the fur. It wore a leather vest, a leather skirt, and a strange cape made of dozens of different colored cloth patches. As they walked closer, Yvian realized the patches weren't cloth at all. They were scalps.

When they came within three meters of the lone Vrrl, the Vrrl in red let out a loud chuffing noise. "Warmaster Scathatch. The Scargiver has arrived."

Warmaster Scathach turned. His eyes were green, with slits for pupils. Four scars traced their way from just above his right eye to the bottom of his muzzle. He shifted its gaze from Mims to Yvian, then back to the Vrrl in red. He blinked slowly before saying. "Thank you, Hsath. Leave us now." He pointed at a huddle several feet away. "And take that one with you. This is not a conversation for soft paws."

Hsath clasped all four of its (his? probably his) hands behind his head. He thrust his belly forward before returning his arms to his sides. The escorts he'd brought followed suit. Two of them moved to the form on the ground, which turned out to be a sleeping flivvan.

"Wha- AAUGH!" The flivvan, who Yvian assumed to be Migo, scrambled backwards on his hands at the sight of the ones who woke him. "I told you, Mims is coming! Mims is..." He saw the human standing near Warmaster Scathach. "See, he's there!" Migo pointed. "He's there! Mims. You gotta help-"

One of the Vrrl cut him off with a slap. "Silence, softpaw." Migo stared up at it, eyes wide, breath heavy. It reached down and helped the flivvan to his feet. Like all flivvan, Migo was covered in orange fur. He was a heavyset man, wearing a set of heavily stained overalls. "This is no longer the place for you." Another Vrrl gripped him, and together they hustled the mechanic out of the promenade. The other Vrrl followed, leaving Yvian and Mims alone with the Warmaster.

Warmaster Scathach went back to gazing out the viewports. Mims waited. Yvian sweated. After several seconds that felt much longer, the Vrrl spoke. "Are you afraid of me, human?"

The Captain shook his head. He removed his helmet. "I'm not afraid of anything I can kill."

The Warmaster's thoughtful hmm rumbled. Yvian felt the vibration in her chest. "And you, pixen?" He did not turn. "Are you afraid of me?"

Yvian left her helmet on. She considered putting on a brave front, but decided honesty was best. "Yes. Definitely."

"That is the problem between our species," Scathach told the human. "We feel you do not give us the fear that we deserve."

Mims shrugged. "You're aggressive and you're dangerous, but you're not the worst thing humanity's faced. We've had two wars already, and we beat you both times."

"Perhaps." Scathach was silent for a moment. "Your technology is superior to ours. But humans themselves are weak. Slow. Blind. Even one of our juveniles could tear any of you apart. We are the greatest sapient predators the galaxy has ever seen." He unclasped his hands, raising one of them as he turned to look at the Captain. Claws slowly slid forward on the tips of his hand. "The mere sight of my kind," his claws retracted and he made a fist, "should leave you quivering with fear."

"And it doesn't," Mims reasoned. "And that pricks your pride."

"It is more than pride," said the Warmaster. "It is our identity. We are the Vrrl. The Apex. All other sapients are food to us. If we were to become prey..." His brows furrowed, all three eyes narrowing. "It would be the end of all we are."

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

"What's this about, Warmaster?" Mims crossed his arms. "I don't think you'd have gone to all this trouble for a casual conversation."

"This is not a casual conversation," said the Vrrl. "I have questions that you alone may be worthy to answer."

"I alone?" the Captain's brows shot up. "Why?"

"Because you are the Kinslayer." the Vrrl chuckled at the Captain's surprise. "Did you think I would not know? You have killed more humans than the entire Vrrl Starfang Empire. And tens of thousands among the other species. You are of the Apex. There may be others with the knowledge I seek, human, but there are very few worthy to give me counsel."

"That's, uh.... nice... I guess." Mims scratched the back of his head. "What do you want to know?"

Scathach clasped his hands behind his back again. "You know of the Oluken?"

"Yes," said the Captain. "They're the ones that provide the Federation's medical technology."

"They do the same for us," said the Warmaster. "As you know, the Oluken do not allow weapons of any kind on their stations. No blasters, no blades. No armor. Some of my hunters saw this as an opportunity. Armed humans are deadly, but unarmed? You are weaker than the krog. It was a chance to sooth our wounded pride, and to finally teach your kind the fear that is our due."

"I'll bet the Oluken didn't like that," Mims remarked.

"They were not pleased," said the Warmaster, "But the fines were a small price to pay." He frowned. "No, the problem was the same as it always is. Humans."

"They fought back, I take it?" Mims unfolded his arms, thinking. "Maybe started grouping up to hunt you?"

"Worse," said the Vrrl. "A single human caught one of my warriors. With his bare hands, the human broke every bone in the warrior's body, then plucked out one of his eyes and ate it. He threatened the humans would make us their prey."

The Captain grunted.

"We did not think such a thing was possible." The Warmaster measured the human with his eyes. "Tell me, Scargiver. Could you kill one of us? With just your hands?"

Mims scratched his head again, thinking. He shrugged. "Maybe. It's not a fight I'd take lightly."

The Warmaster gave another rumbling hmm. "Then it's not a thing many humans could do."

"I wouldn't say that," said Mims. "Your average untrained human would die, but there are dojos all over the place, and every one of them will have a couple of people more dangerous than me."

"More dangerous than the Kinslayer?" Warmaster Scathach raised an eyebrow. Yvian was dubious, herself. She'd seen the Captain fight.

"In unarmed combat, at least," said the Captain. "I'm a pilot first, and I have to divide my training between that and a number of other disciplines. Martial artists spend most of their time practicing unarmed combat, often for twelve or more hours a day. Combine that with Oluken med tech, and you've got guys in perfect physical shape who've been practicing for eighty years or more. Any of them would handle me as easy as you'd handle an untrained human."

"And these... martial artists... would they really hunt us? Eat us?" The Warmaster combed two of his hands through his mane, disturbed.

"Hunt you, yes," Mims told him. "But I don't think they'd eat you unless they were making a point. We prefer the taste of herbivores."

The Vrrl hmmed again. "And you know they are capable of this? You've seen it?"

Mims shook his head. "No. I'm pretty sure, but I've never seen that kind of fight."

The Vrrl took a breath and reclasped his hands behind his back. He stared out at the stars. "I need a way to know for sure."

"Easy enough," said Mims. "Send one of your hunters to a dojo. Challenge them to a fight."

The Warmaster shook his head. "We've angered the Oluken enough. They've already threatened to remove us from their herdgroup."

"Um," Yvian started. She almost fell silent when the Vrrl's attention snapped to her, but forced herself to continue. "Why are you so concerned about the Oluken? You don't, uh, seem to be worried what anyone else thinks."

"The Oluken are poisonous," said the Vrrl. "So they cannot be prey. Their medical technology is invaluable, and we've failed to replicate it. Angering them would cost us resources, and we wouldn't even get a meal out of it."

"You don't need to start a fight on their stations, anyway," said Mims. "Just send a challenge. In writing. Tell them you want to see what a human's capable of. If the dojo isn't interested, they'll at last pass the info to someone who is. There are plenty of martial artists crazy enough to fight a Vrrl."

"I smell," said the Vrrl. The phrase confused Yvian for a second, but she assumed it was the Vrrl equivalent of "I see."

"So was that the big question you need answers to?" asked the Captain.

"It's more important than you know, human."

"Call me Mims," said Mims.

"No," said the Warmaster. He continued, "There is... a prediction. A prophecy, perhaps. It is said that a time will come when the Vrrl are no longer the Apex. A great Scourge, a devourer, will come. The Scourge will not hunt as we do, will not leave prey alive to repopulate. They will kill us all. When we meet this Scourge, the Vrrl Starfang Empire must move as one. We must strike with all our power, not to hunt, but to destroy. It will be our only hope." For the first time, the Warmaster turned fully, shifting to face the human, staring into his eyes. "There are those who believe that you, humans, might be the Scourge we've been warned of. I do not believe it," his eyes narrowed, "but a war of extinction could make it so."

Mims held the Warmaster's gaze. After a few seconds, he nodded. "A war of extinction wouldn't be good for the Federation either." He reached into his belt and pulled out a data cartridge. "Here."

The Vrrl took it. "What is it?"

"I set you up an account on the Nexus," said the Captain. "It's got my contact information. If you need counsel again, you can reach me without terrorizing my mechanic. Just get in comm range of any Confed station."

"I smell," said the Vrrl. He pocketed the cartridge.

"There's one more thing," said Mims. He pulled out a second cartridge. "There was a Klaath Incursion at Krog Prime. A full evacuation, really."

Warmaster Scathach crossed his arms. "What do the Vrrl care for the Krog or the Klaath?"

"I'm sure you don't," said the Captain. "But we got a look at what they're running from. Devourers. A force that leaves no prey alive to repopulate. The Xill are so scared of them they formed an alliance with the Federation."

The Warmaster's eye widened at that. "A predator that scares the Xill?" They narrowed again. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I sold this information to the Xill, the Federation, and the Confed," Scathach reached for the cartridge, but Mims pulled it back. "And now, I'm selling it to you."

Scathach held out his hand. Mims dropped the cartridge into it. The Warmaster examined it for a moment, then let out a massive, coughing roar. As the echos faded, a Vrrl in crimson armor entered the promenade.

"Hsath," ordered the Warmaster. "Fetch credits for the Scargiver."

Hsath stuck his hands behind his head and thrust forward his belly. "Yes, Warmaster."

As Hsath left the chamber, the Captain remarked. "I'll probably charge for counsel, from now on."

"You will not," said the Warmaster. "But I will pay for information, from time to time." He regarded Mims with an amused expression. "I might even start to like you, Scargiver, as long as you don't nuke my ship."

Mims frowned. "If you knew what we were planning why didn't you raise the shields?"

"And show fear to prey?" Scathach chuckled. "Don't be ridiculous."