Chapter Nineteen

Time: Fifty-two minutes after the start of the Denon-Ryloth Hyperspace incident.

She felt a flinch, an impression of a warning that told her that she had to look away. She didn’t know where the instinct came from, but she listened to it, turning around and walking away from the bridge window half a second before the bridge lit up as if someone had dropped a flashbang in the room.

The ship shook, screens fizzled and popped and sparks flew from some consoles. The ex-slaves in control screamed and jumped away, some tumbling over themselves in their haste to get away. The robots on the other hand remained cool even as screens went dark.

Then everything shut off. Pitch darkness, save for the burning light reigned, Screams filled the ship.

For a moment, as the blinding light from outside faded, Taylor felt herself floating into the air, feet lifted off the ground as gravity abandoned them. It returned a moment later, the lights flickering back on with an electric buzz.

“What happened?” she asked HK-47, sounding more calm than she felt.

“Conjecture: It seems that the process of creating a small supernova had an adverse reaction on our ship’s electronic components. Statement: I haven’t seen such a powerfully destructive explosion in some time. It warms my circuits to see such wanton destruction aimed at our mutual enemies, even if we were within the blast radius.”

“Right,” she said. “Tell the others to get the sensors or whatever back online. I don’t like being blind out here. If we survived, then maybe our enemies did too. Oh, and HK-47, make sure to remind everyone that we haven’t won yet.”

“Statement: With pleasure, Master.”

***

Trais leaned back into his command seat as he watched the space around the vast explosion slowly darken until all that remained were huge clouds of dangerously hot gases slowly dissipating into the void.

Of the two ships of his small ad-hoc fleet there was no sign. The only ship remaining other than his Beskar Mace was the Thick Brick and it was little more than a glorified freighter.

“Status of the boarding party?” he asked.

His second looked up from a datapad, face twisted into a displeased frown. “We lost the airlocks and the armory nearest that point of egress. We tried herding them into a killbox, but their leader didn’t take the bait. They've been travelling in a straight line, blowing through every bulkhead and blast door on their path instead of going around.”

“Either they’re fools or they’re brighter than I initially gave them credit for,” Trais muttered. Judging by what was left of the Stinky, Gut-Ripper and Raider, it was probably safer to assume that they were smarter and better trained than the reports the Hutts gave him suggested.

These weren’t slaves. Or if there were slaves amongst them, they were from Kashyk or Mandalore or some other planet where warriors were bred.

No. The more likely answer to how these enemies were putting up so much resistance was either the Force itself or they were trained soldiers or mercenaries to begin with, and he was never the sort to put any weight upon superstition.

“Comms,” he asked, voice carrying across the bridge. “Get me a line to that Republic ship and the Profits. I want to speak to their captains. Connect me in my boardroom.” In a lower voice, he muttered so that only his second heard. “Keep stalling the boarders. Leave them an open route back out of the ship. We’re cutting our losses.”

“Aye aye,” the man said before retreating back.

Knees creaking as he stood, Trais got to his feet and pushed off his seat for the first time in hours. The boardroom was nearby, placed so that he could speak freely with his officers or with any commander he had business with. For that same reason it was a clean, professionally laid room. More spacious than he thought was wise aboard a spacecraft, but he wasn’t going to complain, not when presenting the right image could be crucial.

The hypercom in the middle of the table flashed, announcing an incoming call. A few presses revealed that it was a three way holographic connection. And so quickly... perhaps his adversaries wanted to parley too.

He smoothed down the front of his jacket and made sure it sat well on his frame, then with a flick of his finger, he pressed the interface that would turn on the holocal system.

Two flickering holograms appeared then sharpened into focus. To his left was a half-sized Neimoidian floating on the desk, the height adjusted so that the captain wouldn’t be looking up to him. To the right were two figures, a young Human woman and a protocol droid of a make and model that he didn’t recognize.

“Hello,” he said. “I am Trais, captain of the Beskar Mace.”

“Greetings captain,” the Neimoidian said. “I am Sib Nark, representative of the Trade Federation and captain of the Profits of Merchandising.”

Trais grit his teeth. He was not aware that the damned Trade Federation had their fingers in this mess. It complicated things when the single largest member of the galaxy’s largest trade consortium was an injured party. A bad move could lead to his ships being blacklisted in half the way stations of the galaxy.

He turned his attention to the other pair, the droid dutifully translating for the human woman before turning back towards the projector. “Salutations: My master greets you in kind, Captain Trais of the Beskar Mace. She wishes to inform you that you seem more respectable than the captain of the other three ships she annihilated this afternoon. Threat: Not that we would do the same to you.”

“Does your master have a name, droid?” he asked.

The droid’s head turned just a little. “Announcement: My master is Darth Khepri.”

Trais stood just a little taller as a wash of something cold flash down his spine. The girl child looked away from her robotic assistant and stared into the projector as if locking eyes with him. “It is a pleasure to speak with you both, Captain Sib Nark... Darth Khepri.” Trais licked his lips and tried to make his swallow look inconspicuous. “I wish to discuss a potential reprieve in this battle.”

“A reprieve?” The Neimoidian said. “Please explain captain Trais.”

“I believe that my side of this battle has suffered enough overall loses that continued fighting would only aggravate our situation. By that same token, we still have enough material, personnel and fervour to complete our task, though it would be with greater loses. At this moment, I suspect is likely that if pushed what remains of my fleet would be more than capable of accomplishing our main objective. A retreat, on the other hand, would allow me to regroup and reassess my mission parameters.”

“And you wish for us to give you this opportunity? If the costs of this raid of yours have outweighed its profits, why would you continue?” Sib Nark asked.

“Assessment: You are a coward,” the droid said. “Qualification: So you have lost some meatbags and a few ships barely worthy of the name. That is not a reason to turn tail and run. Encouragement: Please stay in your current position and heading. My master and I will soon attempt to board your ship through the expedient method of ramming. Once this is accomplished the final assessment of who will win this battle can be made in close quarters.”

“No,” the Neimoidian said. “Ramming his ship would damage the Profits. Please, tell Darth Khepri not to do such a thing, I implore you.”

Trais had, in his youth, enjoyed hiking in the mountainous trails of his homeworld. On occasion he would have to scale sharp mountain faces when the paths her took grew too steep. A few times, in his eagerness to reach the top, he almost fell. That sensation, of the world dropping out from under him and his mind reeling as it tried to find something, anything, to grip onto, assailed him again.

Outwardly, all this meant was that he shifted slightly to one side. “Would you risk your crew and your ship for the mere chance to root us out?” he asked while looking at Darth Khepri’s hologram.

The droid translated again.

The woman shifted, legs going shoulder-width apart and arms crossing under her chest. “Query: Would it be possible for you to allow those boarding your vessel and no doubt making a mess of your internals to retreat? My Master, in her infinite kindness, wishes to make sure that her ill-trained slave warriors survive this encounter.”

“That would be acceptable,” he said.

The droid and its master returned to discuss between each other, which left the Neimoidian to speak. Trais was only passingly familiar with the species, and their reputation for cowardice outside of mercantile efforts didn’t seem to be serving him well at the moment as the alien was clenching his fists as if incensed. “Captain Trais, I demand to know why you would assault a Trade Federation vessel on official business.”

“I’m a contract working for the Hutt cartels,” Trais explained. “You merely had a bounty placed upon your cargo.”

“My cargo is made up of freed slaves. What you are doing is piracy!”

“Not in this sector. I have a waiver from the Hutt that allows me to board and reappropriate any cargo that does not appear on your official manifest. If you wish to complain, do so to the Hutts.”

“This is ludicrous,” Sib Nark said. “Who will pay reparations for the losses we have suffered!”

“Suggestion: Stop speaking.” The droid said and the Neimoidian shut its mouth with a click. “Statement: My Master, in her infinite kindness, has taken pity upon you and has decided to not ram into your ship at near-lightspeed in order to board and kill your entire crew with nothing but her bare hands and the force. Disappointed Tangent: I do dislike her empathy, it is one of her greatest faults.” The droid shifted. “Statement: We will communicate with our boarding teams and have them withdraw all organic members. The droids accompanying them will be left behind as a form of insurance. Once the team has been removed, you will decouple from the Profits and jump out of the sector. Any deviations from this path will lead to our all out-assault on your ship. Suggestion: Please deviate from the path.”

“I see,” Trais said. “Consider it done then. We will expect your boarders to exit as quickly and efficiently as they can. It was a pleasure speaking with you, Captain Sib Nark, Darth Khepri. It is always a joy to meet civilised adversaries.” He reached towards the holoprojector. “Good bye.”

With a press, the two holograms winked out and he was left alone in the board room. He had to act quickly, to prepare his crew for the maneuvers they would be going through in a few moments, but there was time for that later.

He pressed the comms again, this time to address his officers. “Save the recording of our last transmission, I will need to present it to our clients. Attach all the navigational data of the encounter to it as well.”

The entire mission was a failure of the highest order, but that didn’t mean it would prevent him from finding future opportunities.

And he would be keeping an ear out for the exploits of this Darth Khepri.

***