Razik was a fierce, strong ferret, vermin through and through. But she wasn't like other corsair captains, who dressed themselves in finery and strutted about like peacocks, sending orders this way and that whenever it pleased them to do so.
She was cruel, yes, but only to her captives or enemies. Her crew was loyal, because they loved her. Vermin or not, she knew they would give their lives for her, and she would always do the same.
It was that that stood her apart from others. She had learned to control her followers not by fear, but my companionship. They grew to respect her, not scorn her. Here and there she would add a touch of force to her leadership, but only as much as was needed to keep them in their places. Usually, that wasn't much.
So, when Picu, her first mate, returned to the ship one night with something unexpected, Razik's reaction was different than would be expected from other corsairs.
At the time, the ferret was standing in the bow of her elegant ship, Ebony, idly polishing her sword. As Picu appeared out of the surrounding darkness, Razik sheathed her sword in one fluid movement, laying the rag on the wooded railing, "You're back early." Her voice was slightly accented, the only hint that her origins may have been the far north mountains. "I dinna expect you to take over watch so soon."
"Nor did I." The short ermine said, offering the bundle he held to Razik, "Lookit what young Xaimo won, cap'n."
Razik's eyes moved away from the dark water to what Picu revealed. Her dark brows arched upwards, and her paw moved to pull the blanket back from the child's face. "Little rascal." She murmured, frowning faintly. "I've told Xaimo t'be careful what she gets herself into."
"Only too many times." Picu agreed. "Don't blame her, cap'n. Some vixen fooled with her greed, or so I heard."
"I believe we have a problem here." Razik said quietly, and took the infant kitten into her arms. "When Xaimo returns, send her me. I need to set some things straight with that girl." Then, she turned, padding towards her cabin, shutting the door firmly behind her.

"As if I ain't 'ad 'nough trouble," Xaimo grumbled as she yawned, knocking on the door to the Captain's Cabin twice, "Now I gotta deal wit th'cap'n..."
"It's open!" Razik's voice sounded from within, and Xaimo pushed the door open. Inside, Razik sat at a large oaken desk, which was piled with maps, charts, scrolls, and dusty old volumes. The ferret captain motioned for the other creature to sit as she finished an entry in the ship's recordings. Then, closing the book and setting the quill aside, Razik stood, paws held behind her back as she strode to the window. "We are leaving in the morning, Xaimo."
"Aye." Xaimo said, shifting uncomfortably.
"Until now, I have never had a nanny on board." Razik said quietly, not turning to look at the younger ferret. "There's been no need. Times have changed, it seems."
"An'?"
Razik smiled faintly. Xaimo was headstrong, and never bothered to hold back her thoughts or hide her emotions. But still, she was bound to become a great corsair, after several seasons' experience. Razik knew this, and was content to watch the energetic youngster make a fool of herself. "You came across a child while gambling, or so I've heard." Razik turned towards her, tucking her paws into her pockets as she fixed Xaimo with a cool gaze. "This is your first lesson in the ways of a corsair, lass. Take responsibility for your actions."
Xaimo could barely keep herself seated. "How? I ain't gonna take care o' th'kitt!"
"If you won't, find someone who will."
"Jus' kill it!" Xaimo growled, standing. She glared towards Razik's bed, where the babe lay, propped against the pillows. "'Tis worthless. Probably diseased."
"You cannot always be rid of your troubles by killing something, Xaimo." Razik said, claws drumming on the desktop. "Use your brain, lass. It'll do you some good."
Xaimo sighed, but her eyes flashed. "I don't wanna seem a coward, bu'..."
Razik guessed what she was going to request, and smiled faintly, "Asking for help doesn't show weakness, Xaimo. It merely shows that you are mortal."
"Will you?"
"Will I what?" Razik was playing with her, which made Xaimo all the more furious.
"Will you take care o' th'kitt or will ya not?" The young ferret growled.
"I will." Razik said after a moment of thoughtful silence. "Let this be a lesson for you, Xaimo."
"Lemme guess..." Xaimo rolled her eyes, crossing her arms, "Think b'fore I act?"
"Close." Razik's smiled spread into a cheeky grin, "Never gamble for air; if you don't see it, it doesn't exist."
Xaimo fixed Razik with a look that accused her of having escaped from a nunnery. When the captain returned the glare, they both burst out laughing.

A season later, Ebony was returning home, piled high with loot and full with slaves.
With land in sight, Razik would have been happy to relax and drink. Atanya wouldn't let her.
The toddler was already strong and clever. Her soft fur was a blend of black and gray, her large eyes a deep honey gold. The girl fancied herself a member of the crew, and would often saunter around the deck, brandishing a small knife as a sword, and shouting orders to the assorted vermin.
"C'mon, Ziky!" The kitten appeared out of nowhere, tackling the ferret's legs, "Ye pwomised t'tweach me!"
"That I did," Razik chuckled as she disentangled Atanya from her legs, lifting the child up and seating her on the bow's railing. "An' I shall, when we reach port."
"Wuz tha'?" Atanya squealed excitedly, pointing an overlarge paw towards the distant stretch of land.
"That's an island, Atanya." Razik explained, "Sampetra, it's called. 'Tis one of the few islands completely inhabited by corsairs and searats."
"An' wuz tha' bwig cabin stickin' outta it?"
"That's no cabin, girl." Razik barely withheld a soft laugh at Atanya's ignorance. "That's a palace, home of Atre."
"Wuzza Atre?"
"Atre is a fox, Queen of the Sea. She has under her command every ship ever to dock in Sampetra's port." Razik smiled grimly. "Many seasons of work have made me one of her top captains."
Though Atanya understood almost none of this, she nodded to everything the ferret said, head tilted to the side as she watched the island.
Razik lifted the kitten down, and looked to where her crew lounged about the deck. "Picu, take th'wheel. Piscyaki, put 'er on full sail. An' make sure that flag is up high!"
As the two weasels left, the rest of the crew watched her, and Razik grinned faintly, "Let's make a grand entrance, shall we?" No one said a thing, but there were grins all around. "Night is approaching. Put candles around the deck railing, and fasten torches to the crossbeams. Tonight we celebrate; tomorrow we feast like kings!"
This was greeted by a hearty cheer, which turned to laughter as Atanya climbed onto the railing and, balancing as only a cat could, made a pose, knife in paw, "'Et's go kick 'eir lazy 'ails, aye!"

After Ebony easily into port, Razik left two vermin to watch the ship, while she went with the rest of her crew, including Atanya, to a nearby tavern called the Silver Eagle. Her intention was not simply to drink herself into oblivion, but find a crew for the two ships that were being built for her, still yet to be named.
"Picu, send someone t'get those maps I was showin' y'all." Razik said as she pushed the door open. Atanya was sitting at a table amid a group of unknown vermin, stealing their various drinks as she watched them playing poker. The ferret strode towards her, pulling up a chair. "Well, it seems you've met Kit." She said, looking the wildcat next to Atanya over.
"Aye." Kit muttered, sliding a card towards the beast across from her and receiving one in return. "Where'd ye find 'er, Raz?"
"One o' m'crew won 'er a season back." Razik said, and sipped the drink Atanya had been trying. She made a face, tossing the goblet over her shoulder, ale and all. "This ain't good enough for th'like o' you."
"Coudwaeda should be able to give 'er summat better." Kitwyeka said, and tossed several small silver coins onto the growing pile.
Razik nodded, and motioned towards a barmaid as she passed. "Get me your best, two o' 'em."
The weasel nodded, and moved towards the bar. As Picu arrived, handing her the maps, Razik smirked, seeing his eyes on the barmaid. "You're quite taken with that Fleispa, ain't you?"
"What?" Picu snorted. "Naw, she's too scrawny for me."
Razik chuckled, and gave him a good shove, turning back to Kit. The wildcat was collecting her winnings, and grinned smugly at her. "Care t'try your luck?"
"Thanks, but no." Razik gave Fleispa a silver coin and sipped her ale, offering the other goblet to Atanya. "I like t'keep my money."
"Suit yerself." Kit pushed the coins into the several money pouches on her belt. Then, after downing the rest of her ale, she ruffled Atanya's headfur, nodded to Razik, and moved towards the door. "Atre was impressed with your little show, Razik. Let's hope you brought a lot. If it's anything like your last load, you're bound to have another ship on your paws."
"Aye." Razik leaned back in her chair, putting her footpaws up on the tabletop. Atanya climbed into her lap, clutching her empty goblet. "This is th'life."
"Cap'n?" Picu was at her side again. By his stench, Razik could tell he was already half drunk. "There's about a dozen that're interested, cap'n. Ova there." He pointed vaguely, swaying slightly on his paws.
Depositing the kitten on a chair, Razik took her charts from the table, striding to the table he motioned to. A burly fox greeted her, pushing a rat out of the way so she could be seated.
Razik recognized some of the faces, though many were new, probably found on the mainland within the past season. "You're all interested in crewing one o' my ships, are you?"
The fox nodded, glancing towards the assortment of vermin that stood or sat nearby, "Perhaps. Wah shoul' wae go wi' ye?"
"As of now, my ship, Ebony, is the finest vessel afloat, except Atre's. You know th'one I speak of; I came up with the plans for that vessel three seasons ago. The Shooting Star is the sister ship of mine."
"Is it now?" The fox appeared interested, and nodded for her to continue.
"For the past three seasons, my single ship has brought in more loot and slaves than any other, including Viechasu's three ships. Therefore, my crew is the best paid." There were murmurs among the vermin, and Razik continued with a smug smile, "The more you work, the more you get. But even for my cabin boy, working for me is rewarding."
"What's th'catch?" One creature demanded.
"No catch." Razik said. "There are but three rules: Never disobey my orders, never give mercy, and never fail." Her eyes glinted evilly. "I cannot abide failure."
"What of our captains?"
Razik looked to the stout rat that spoke, and smiled grimly. "You, Snople, are still under Asoodi's command, are you not?"
Snople nodded slowly, and gulped down his drink. "Yup. Ya reckon yer gonna fight 'im?"
"Nay." Razik chuckled, "That weasel is clever; I'll outsmart him."
"You? Outsmart Asoodi?" Snople laughed. "Not e'en Viechasu c'n manage tha'."
"Viechasu is only powerful because he found a way to blackmail Atre." Razik growled. "Some of you have probably worked on his ships; you've seen how worthless he is."
"He pays well, either way." One beast argued.
"As do I." Razik smiled wickedly. She spread one of her maps on the tabletop, putting beakers on three corners of it and a small wooden box on the other. "X does not always mark the spot, my friend. There are few hidden treasures left these days; many of the maps lead to nothing but bones. Woodlanders have developed trade routes among themselves, as you know. For many generations we preyed upon their ships. Now, they travel in fleets, in order to protect their goods from us."
"We ain't stupid." Someone growled. "We already know that."
"What you don't know is that I have found a way around this." Razik's eyes flashed dangerously. "With my ships, I am about to make a trade route of my own."
There was silence all around. Before anyone could demand proof, she gave it to them. Reaching for the box, Razik pulled a small key from her pocket. Lifting the lid, she carefully took out the bar of gold that was inside, and placed it on the table. Carved into the middle was her personal seal: a circle, inside which was a pair of crossing curved swords and the letter R. "No one knows the island but me."

"You are an ambitious creature, Razik."
It was the following afternoon. Razik sat with Atre in the palace library, while Atanya played with carved wooden ships on the floor.
"You're like me." The fox queen was saying, sipping at her jewel encrusted goblet. "As far as I can see, your plan is fool proof."
"Except, as you mentioned before, workers." Razik smiled, pushing her plate and goblet aside and spreading a cloth map out on the table. "On my most recent journey, I spied a band of woodlanders on the beach. Doubtlessly they saw me, but when I made no move towards them, they just went about their business."
"Your point?"
"They made the mistake of entering their shelter; unless they have been forced from the area, they are probably still there." Razik tapped a place on the map with a claw. "Capture will be easy. I don't need many, for I already have a great deal of slaves in my possession."
"Let's see how you do, shall we?" Atre nodded slowly. "Yes... Return to me in two seasons. If your amounts impress me, we'll see what we can do from there."
"Another ship would certainly move things along..." Razik said quietly.
Atre laughed heartily. "Be glad you are none other, Razik. Any other asking a ship of me in such a way would be playing with death."
"I know." Razik grinned faintly. "I shall leave in a week to capture woodlanders. If all goes well, I should return and leave again within less than a season."
"No." Atre rose, moving to the window and motioning for Razik to follow. "Leave in two weeks; it shall take that long to prepare all four ships."
"Four?" Razik grinned, and was barely able to keep from rubbing her paws together gleefully as she looked towards the ship that was anchored a little ways out.
"Aye." Atre said, "That vessel is a reconstruction of your grandfather's ship, the Riptide, with some additions of mine. Use her well."
"What's her name?"
"She has none, as of yet. See there?" Atre motioned towards where several beasts were moving around on the ship. "She's just having her finishing touches put on now."
"My thanks, milady."
"The more I give you," Atre said, "The more you get, and the more I get in return. I say it's a fair deal."
Razik nodded, turning from the window and whistling to Atanya. The kitten left the carvings as they were, scampering to her side. With Atanya trailing behind her, Razik left the library.

Seven seasons swiftly passed, about as uneventful as life could be for vermin.
Razik was at last content; she was in charge of close to twenty ships, she was Atre's favorite captain, and she was rich. Very rich.
Atanya, on the other paw, was readier than ever to make a name for herself; not just among Atre's followers, but far beyond. Razik had seen her wild spirit from the very beginning, and had used it to Atanya's advantage, and her own. Now, with the recent invitation for Atre to attend a grand feast and ball hosted by Gabriela, Queen of Mossflower, the skilled feline had a chance to put her skills to the test.
"You're a knockout," Razik assured her time and time again, mentally applauding herself for a job well done.
Atanya was never satisfied, it seemed. She was never one for caring how she looked, but she had an impression to make, and told Razik so.
The ferret only smiled, and motioned towards one of the young slave girls, a scrawny squirrel. "Fetch your master the strongest ale aboard. She's gonna need it."
"My thanks." Atanya grinded out as the girl scurried off, and turned back to the mirror, looking over her reflection: she was slender, but well muscled, had graceful curves, long lashes, sleek silver/black headfur, a perfect face, and deep, almost hypnotizing eyes.
Indeed, in appearance she was perfect. There were scars under that fur, sure, but that was already covered. All she needed was the right attitude, the right clothes, and the perfect entrance.
"Black and gold," Razik kept saying. "It's perfect."
"I always wear black." The feline argued, gulping down her ale. "Blue, mebbe? I dunno!"
"Don't overdo it," Razik cautioned, "If they think you've tried too hard, they'll think you're shallow and worthless."
"What would you suggest?" Atanya growled, whirling around to face her mentor.
"Dark colors suit you." Razik said simply, and slipped from the cabin.
Sighing, Atanya returned to the mirror. She tosses her empty goblet to the slave, smiling grimly. "We've got work t'do, girl."

Six ships left Sampetra not long thereafter. Atre captained the first, the Bloodlust. Razik captained the Darkblossom, Viechasu captained the Slayer, Asoodi captained the Icestorm, and Kitwyeka captained the Fire Spirit. Finally, captaining the smallest, but fastest ship, was Atanya, aboard her beloved vessel, Bittersweet.
"Well, we're sure to strike fear into those woodie hearts of theirs." Kit remarked as she took dinner with Razik, Atre, and Atanya on the Bloodlust.
The Queen chuckled, sipping thoughtfully at her wine. "As I've heard, some of the Mossflower vermin make quite fine entertainers; gypsies, mostly."
"We'll knock 'em off their paws." Razik said as she exchanged grins with Kit.
"Do what you will," Atre said with a sigh, sitting back with her footpaws on the tabletop. "Just don't raid too early. Only after the festivities, understood?"
All three nodded, smiling grimly at their own ideas.
"I've got a bit of a surprise for their royalties, in fact." Atanya ventured, and Razik's eyes turned to her.
"Talk." The ferret captain said, but the younger creature just shook her head.
"Only another week, in good weather." Atanya said casually, downing another tankard of grog. "You'll see soon enough."
"Indeed we shall." Kitwyeka murmured, and winked across at Atanya. As another cat, she had gotten the same idea.

When the mainland was sighted, Atanya took the wheel for several hours, before disappearing below decks. She emerged about fifteen minutes before the ships docked, stunningly radiant.
She wore black, almost completely: loose pants, a loose silken shirt, and a cloak. Her belt, too, was black, it's buckle a silver running wolf. Her weapons were only her several knives, each black, and identical to the others. The only contrast to her dark, forbidding appearance was in the light chainmail tunic, washed golden.
Smuflake, her most loyal crewmember, whom she had also named, whistled in approval.
"If it weren't for those knives, I'd ravish ye." He said, watching his captain.
At this, Atanya whirled on him, eyes flashing dangerously. "What was that?"
Smuflake gulped, and slunk away. "Nothin', cap'n."

The woodlanders were obviously thrilled at the sight of the corsairs. Atre made a grand entrance, as did her captains. The crews mingled with the other guests, standing out with their atrocious behavior and obvious wealth.
The squirrel queen, Gabriela, was stunning, wearing a gown of deep blues and purples, artistically woven together. Nothing, however, prepared the feasters for the arrival of Atanya.
There was silence as the cat, alone, padded down the stairs into the throne room. Mouths gaped, eyes widened, males whistled, females murmured amongst themselves...
"So, what's your plan?" Razik demanded of the feline, moving to her side. "Please try not t'screw things up."
"You worry far too much, Ziky." Atanya smiled brightly, nodding to the beasts who called greetings to her. "See that fellow, there? He looks as if he'll die if he doesn't bed me."
Razik followed her eyes, and her lips turned up in a smile. "So, you have your sights set on Trae Goldeye."
"Nay, Razik." Atanya chuckled softly, eyes dancing. "Let's just say I'll keep him moving."
Atre completely approved the idea. "Wrap him 'round your finger, darlin'."
"Oh, yes, Majesty. I intend to."