The shuttle lands within the recently arrived MC75, its ramp lowering easily to allow my escort of loyal Clones and arms-men to form a cordon for my descent. I glance around the ship’s expanded hangar. Half a squadron of HH-87 Starhoppers, a squadron’s worth of Z-95s, three Cloakshape fighters and a duet of older Skiprays and a former Separatist Sheathipede shuttle too. That was a considerable number of strikecraft and I doubted it was even a third of Ohnaka’s full compliment. It appears that I had inadvertently made the pirate annoyingly rich and heavily armed.

  The various pirate crew were busy working about the hangar, ignoring my men for the most part while they worked on the various strikecraft and maintaining the ship. I glance ahead at the bandanna wearing Weequay before me, the pirate greeting me with a nod as he and his fellow pirate guards glance warily at my men.

  I roll my eyes as I greet the man of ill repute: “Ohnaka too busy to greet me himself?”

  “Nope, told me he was wantin to greetcha on the bridge.” The pirate replies.

  “Alright, go ahead and lead us there. Daffy, you and your squad keep an eye on the shuttle and no funny business. Hursk, take the other squad, you’re all with me.” I give my orders, the men either setting up a basic perimeter around the shuttle or falling in line behind me as we’re lead through the bowels of the Mon Calamari Starcruiser.

  The doors to the bridge open to reveal a comparatively clean bridge. Unlike the pretty decent mess of the hangar bay it was speckles. It would probably pass a lenient cleaning inspection on a patrol craft. I suppress my mild surprise as Ohnaka makes a dramatic swivel in his command throne, stroking a lizard-monkey as he does.

  “Fleet Admiral Dericote.” The Pirate Prince says with a grin.

  “Ohnaka.” I reply with a slightly suppressed smile, “A pleasure as always.

  “Oh it certainly is.” Ohnaka says as he jumps up from the command throne, his monkey-lizard bolting up to his shoulder instead of being thrown from his lap.

  “I’m afraid I don’t come bearing good news.” I begin, keeping my eyes on a swivel through the pirate’s bridge. Still a mostly Weequay crew, though there were a few more humans, Quarren and Nikto than previously, I also spot an Abyssin. They were definitely new.

  “I am afraid I have expected this. After so many years of a profitable friendship, you must cut ties.” Hondo sighs.

  “Let’s not be hasty,” I start, “First the formalities. I am afraid the Empire has no longer any need for privateers. It is his imperial majesty’s opinion that they are too expensive and a destabilizing element for imperial security.”

  “But not your opinion.” Hondo catches on quickly.

  I roll my eyes at that: “Whatever the case, I hereby must, despite my protests, revoke your letter of marque and reprisal against the Separatists on behalf of the Republic, given out from the office of the Marshal Administrator of the North East Slice Command. However I would greatly enjoy negotiating a continuation of our other dealings.”

  “Doesn’t this go against your, what do they call themselves now? ISB and Imperial Intelligence associates’ wishes?” Ohnaka asks.

  I catch Hursk stiffen from the corner of my eye and sigh. He’d need to be drilled out of that: “Yes, yes it does.”

  “Hmm. Expensive that. To keep secrets from your own security operations.” Hondo muses, “Very pricey.”

  “Haven’t I already made you rich beyond measure?” I ask.

  “You have certainly made me a pretty chit.” Ohnaka admits, “I remember before the war I had some four frigates, half a dozen fighters and a few hundred loyal crew. Now? I have this! My flagship, my beloved Privateer, is a Star Cruiser! A battleship in all but name. I have half a dozen frigates, multiple corvettes and dozens of fighters. I have thousands of crew and quite some wealth, but when have I ever been content simply doing something for nothing?”

  I cover my face in my hand as I sigh. I wipe the exhaustion I feel from my face before facing Hondo with a cocky smile: “Alright, I would like to continue our intelligence arrangement. However I would like it to include your agents within all of my area of operations and to also keep me tapped into the underworld’s grapevine.”

  “At my current rate?” Ohnaka scoffs, “Never, not when you’ve freely admitted you’re doing this behind your bosses’ backs.”

  “Not behind my bosses’ backs, behind the back of an untested, young and most importantly civilian prioritizing, intelligence agency.” I counter, “I’ll pay you a ten percent markup from our previous deals.”

  “Bah! As if I am foolish enough to take Imperial credits! Some bribes have gone up over a thousand percent!” Ohnaka exclaims dramatically.

  “Then how about something more real?” I ask as I throw the pirate a datapuck I had hidden in my brest pocket.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  He catches it easily before exchanging a glance with me: “And what is this?”

  “Coordinates.” I supply.

  “And their worth?” Ohnaka asks.

  “I’d say about two million pre-war Republic credits” I answer, “Probably triple or quadrupple that if you sell it on the black market. A down payment.”

  I see Ohnaka’s eyes light up behind his goggles: “You know … this doesn’t cover all of my expenses. Especially with my … previous contract dissolved.”

  “I’m sure a private discussion and a game or two of cards could make you see reason.” I try.

  Ohnaka tilts his head slightly before barking an order: “T’jarit, you have the bridge. I have a deal to close!”

  I smile as I move to follow the pirate towards his quarters, leaving my men outside as the door closes on me. Ohnaka rummages about in a fine wood cabinet before pulling out a fine looking bottle of wine and two appropriate glasses. He pours us both a glass before handing me one and toasting.

  “I understand that this will not be cheap for you.” I begin the negotiations before taking a sip of the fine vintage, “But unless you’re willing to take more … conventional payments this will be the best I can offer for the time being.”

  “You are certainly twisting my arm.” Ohnaka says, “Clearly this is off the books somehow.”

  “You can say that again.”

  “The puck?”

  “Coordinates to an officially nonexistent supply depot.” I answer, “Filled to the brim with high quality munitions, warship grade durasteel plates, medicine and precious metals for emergency bargaining.”

  Not to mention about a year’s worth of army ration bars for every trench digger in the command. Hondo probably would have some trouble offloading that, but I was certain he would manage it somehow. After all, everyone had to eat.

  “That is some stockpile.” Ohnaka admits, “Six million credits?”

  “If you find the buyers.” I answer.

  “Hm.” Ohnaka muses as he takes another sip, “You’re up to something and it’s more than just double checking your intelligence reports.”

  My eyes narrow slightly: “It is a … risky venture. It could either be very profitable or very … costly.”

  Ohnaka nods, “Oh yes, I’ve been there before.”

  “Like with Dooku.” I supply.

  “A pity how he went out. I always expected something grander, like dueling the entire Jedi High Council or something.” Ohnaka muses, “But profitable you say?”

  How likely would I be able to shoot my way out of the Star Cruiser from here? Maybe two thirds of the way before they either nail me in the back or blow up my shuttle, I decide. I sigh before I speak: “It is a … backup venture, for if I am forced to leave Imperial service. I haven’t decided if I will go through with it or not, since leaving looks rather … deadly with all the intel I have at this point.”

  “And you need more intel on the worlds currently within and without your command for it.” Ohnaka muses before his eyes widen in shock and horror, “No, you aren’t becoming a smu- smug- mug- smuggler, are you?”

  I hesitate a moment before laughing: “Oh Hondo, you know how to lift my spirits from below. No, nothing of the sort. Sure I’ve thought about passing the good economic stuff you’ve sent my way to Elix, but I’ll leave the questionable merchantwork to him.”

  “Then … a possible promotion? No, you said once you left the service.” Hondo muses aloud, “Ah! You’re going blue collar merchant!”

  “Pretty close.” I sigh, I suppose I would be dealing with arms and all the materials needed to supply my forces, “Once I’m done here I’m considering running whatever I can nab around here to the Core, figured my local connections here would do me good in getting everything I need for it.”

  “Hm, it could work. As long as no roguishly handsome pirate comes along and steals your cargo hold and your ship.” Hondo says, “And the Imps don’t have you fall out a window.”

  “Well as long as said roguishly handsome pirate keeps his piracy outside of the Tion cluster and my command and manages to keep a low enough profile to keep using my ports, I’ll happily turn a blind eye.” I offer, “You let me worry about being pushed out of any windows. Either way, you’ll be a decent bit wealthier.”

  That stops the pirate in his tracks: “Am I hearing this correctly?”

  “Well, if I’m gonna run a legitimate business, I’ll want to make sure the competition is nice and … weakened.”

  “You are a sly one, Dericote. Very good! I will liberate this mysterious cache I just so happen to find and keep handing you the good stuff.”

  “Now that, is a good reason to drink.” I reply toasting the Weequay before me as I do. Another piece of the puzzle in place.

  I feel like the picture my current drinking partners and I made would be more fitting with a couple cigars sticking out our mouths. Pity us, but smoking on a starship was generally frowned upon. Not to mention the fact that I had quit the damn things an age and a half ago. I look over the datapad again.

  “So far so good at least.” Luis mutters, “I’ve transferred the hundred or so who were … unwilling to nice calm deskjobs or to a front with more action. I’ll hold off on filling their posts, though I guess I could use B1s in the meantime.”

  “So that makes the Little Revenge, Fondor’s Daughter, Mudpuppy’s Bite, Lucky Kelp, Prince’s Duty, Buckler, Teardrop and Falchion.” I say, “Well that’s more than we had at the beginning of the war.”

  “Not enough to hold off even one of the Imperial class battleships.” Faxe grumbles, “Even if the Little Star is looking promising, Captain Pelgate is a soldier before anything else. A full mutiny might be too much, even if he’s served alongside us since Mon Cala.”

  “Commodore Jim sounded interested though, so that might add some of his squadron.” Luis say optimistically.

  “I’m a bit concerned about the new forces. How do we make sure they don’t remain loyalist?” Faxe asks.

  “The Fondorians will follow our lead once I make clear to them the way things’ll go. The Tapani might be obstinate, but the Ghormans and Herglic should be more than willing.” I reply.

  “And what about those frigates your sponsor is throwing at us?” Faxe presses.

  “Those might be more difficult.” I admit, “We’ll take a look at their crews once they arrive and slowly phase them out. At the very least we should be able to commandeer them once we replace their security and engineering teams.”

  “And where do ya suppose we send them?” Luis asks.

  “The Tionese worlds are always in need of more engineers and soldiers. Call it some … administrative reshuffling for the improvement of imperial authority.”

  “And if we don’t have time for that?” Faxe asks.

  “We’re already likely leaving most of the 120th behind. What’s another nine Nebulons on top of that when we might get twelve Dreadnoughts in return?” I ask.

  “Mights and maybes. I don’t like it.” Luis mutters, “We need more time.”

  “If everything goes to plan, we’ll be a part of the legitimate government.” I try, “Never mind the coup element, we’ll spin it like the Navy did post Pius Dea.”

  “You can’t just point at a vaguely similar moment in history and expect the same results, Thraken!” Luis exclaims, “The Empire hasn’t committed as many atrocities as the Pius Dea have. At least not yet.”

  “Speaking of imperial atrocities. We might be able to nab Bvinsk.” Faxe says.

  “How?” I ask.

  “Bandomeer just got placed under martial law. There was a miner’s strike and his imperial majesty decided to send in Vader to put them down.” Faxe says.

  “How come I didn’t hear of it?” I ask.

  “Because the only reason I know of it is through my family in the Rendili yards. My little brother, the researcher, was complaining about how the experimental ionite missiles his team was working on couldn’t be tested because they were missing their ionite shipments thanks to the strikes, then a couple weeks later the shipments resume alongside whispers of massacres against the protesting miners.” Krugwolt explains.

  “Hm. Maybe we should see if we can get a Bandomeer Volunteer Regiment to replace one or two of our newer Core Volunteers.” I wonder aloud.

  “Maybe if we have another month or two beyond the coup’s trigger date.” Luis says.

  I think it over a moment before making my decision: “See about getting it done anyway, better have and not need than need and not have.”

  “Roger that, your wisdom.” Luis says with an eyeroll.

  I roll my eyes back at him: “Fuck you too.”

  “What about your contacts in the south?” Faxe asks.

  “They’re having trouble. The Mimbanese aren’t trusting anyone at this point and have shot at the man I sent there.” I say, “He isn’t dead, but Maker that Kubaz was not a happy camper.”

  “And the Jedi?” Luis asks.

  “Marauding around Ruusan last I heard. He nabbed another corvette last month, a CR90 from Alderaan.” I answer.

  “That makes a Venator and four corvettes.” Faxe tallies, “No wonder he’s managed to run amok.”

  “He’s certainly embarrassing his hunters.” Luis agrees.

  “Let’s hope we don’t have to follow in his footsteps. I’d rather be the predator than the prey.” I reply.

  “I’ll drink to that.” Faxe says as he raises his glass.