In a dank penthouse of a partially abandoned and decrepit apartment complex in Bosaso, Somalia, Abdi eyed the newcomers warily. Both new men had broad shoulders and hardly spoke. One had the palest skin that Abdi had ever seen. Abdi had seen white people before on the various European vessels that they had captured. He had seen nothing, however, like this newcomer. The other man kept his whole body, including his face, wrapped in tan cloth. Only the eyes were visible. Something in those eyes bothered Abdi. The eyes were yellow. Abdi had seen many races in his life, but none with yellow eyes.

While Abdi understood the depths of human depravity and had sunk into them occasionally himself, he had always felt a sense of brotherhood with his fellow pirates. The pirate brotherhood gave him a sense of belonging and unity. Even though their justifications for their violent lives were tenuous, they had justifications. They lived by an unwritten code, a pirate code. These newcomers were not a part of their brotherhood. Abdi did not trust them. He thought that they were something more than mere arms dealers. He sensed an ulterior motive in them.

“I do not like them.” Abdi said to his leader, Dalmar Labaan. “Why would they want to join us on our next mission? We already bought their weapons.”

“Abdi, you make a good right-hand man, but have you seen the weapons? Have you seen what they can do? With these, we will be unstoppable. Hell, you agreed that we could take an entire container vessel.” Labaan countered.

When Abdi merely looked at the ground, Labaan continued, but this time in a lower voice. “You know we have not really bought their weapons. We did not have enough money. What are you insinuating?”

Abdi raised his eyes. “Only that we have paid them. They should consider taking what we gave them and moving on. Maybe we should make them consider moving on.”

Labaan paused to consider Abdi’s advice, and then responded, “We could persuade them to accept… but what do we care if we give them what they want? In return for the weapons, they want only a ten-percent stake in the next ship that we seize. Also, I do not completely trust our men to work the sights and controls of these new weapons. We may need their training and guidance.”

“We have been practicing for the past week and not once has a man failed to hit his target. Not once have the weapons shown any signs of malfunction. We do not need these outsiders. Also, they want us to attack a container vessel! They want us to take an entire container ship! How can we do that? What kind of retribution will that bring? Pigs get fat, but hogs get slaughtered. Let us not bite off more than we can chew. Why do you insist on keeping them around?” Then in a softer voice Abdi said, “We do not really have to give up any of our stake in the haul.”

“Abdi, I am growing older. I cannot live this lifestyle forever. In this line of work, there is no retirement plan. As you know, the Transitional Federal Government has elections coming up soon. Farole plans a bid. He needs support. Specifically, he needs supplies. Guns, Abdi, he needs guns and lots of them. With these new weapons and if our relationship with these new dealers works out, we may be able to align with Farole. How would you like to get out of the gunslinging life? How does a pompous, cushy government appointment sound to you? Say Minister of Transport and Ports?”

“Dalmar, you cannot be serious. We live outside the law. How could Farole deal with us?” Abdi said in an exasperated tone.

“You see Abdi, now, that is what is great about the Great Puntland State of Somalia. Here, the law is what you make it.” A wide grin broke out across Labaan’s face.

“You sly fox. You have already been in contact with the administration, haven’t you?” Abdi said.

“Abdi, how do you think we have been able to operate out of the ports all of these years? Did you really think the small bribes to the local port guards of goods and livestock were all that we needed to operate with impunity?” Labaan said with a chuckle.

“Dalmar, I like your ideas, but I still do not like these men. I do not trust them. Why do they come alone? Where do these weapons come from? I do not even think the Americans have weapons like these. Who made them? The Russians?” Abdi scoffed. “Something is wrong with them. They have weapons to trade that we could never get anywhere else and they want us to use them to hijack a container vessel? Then they want a only a small quantity of the haul? Attacking a container ship will have consequences. It will put us on international radar. What do these visitors want anyways? Why can’t they trade with someone else for what they want? Why do we have to seize an entire container ship?” Abdi said.

Abdi could see the greed in Labaan’s eyes. Labaan wanted to buy what these mysterious visitors were selling. He wanted to trust them, and yet, Abdi was right, taking a container ship would seriously injure Western trade. Retribution would be quick and relentless.

“You there! Arms dealers! Come here!” Labaan shouted at the visitors who sat huddled in a corner whispering to each other. The visitors approached.

“Am I to understand correctly that all you want is to join us on our raid and to take a small portion of the goods on the ship? There are many ships you know. We do not need to attack a large container vessel. We can obtain just as much from more raids on smaller ships and through hostage negotiations.” Labaan asked them through squinted eyes with a suspicious look on his face.

“Ahhhhh, you want to talk business. Well, now that you know what our weapons can really do, let us get serious. We want more. Much more.” The pale man said in a smooth drawl.

“I am listening.” Said Labaan.

A curious look broke out across Abdi’s face.

“While we deal, let us enjoy the fruits of our labors. I have here some of the finest leaf you will ever smoke. If you thought my weapons were impressive, then wait until you try my tobacco.” The pale man said as he drew three large long-leaf Presidentes from his dark robes.

Labaan and Abdi eagerly accepted the offering. They smoked as they negotiated. As Abdi breathed the smoke in and out of his lungs he felt his mind drifting. He saw himself running across the deck of a large container ship. One of the new weapons was strapped to his arm. He looked through the goggles that accompanied the weapon and saw three glowing heat signatures ahead of him on the deck. He flexed his fingers and felt energy build up in his palm. He allowed his targeting system to fixate on the three forms. Bolts of blue electricity flew from his open palm and struck each of the figures. They crumbled to the ground instantly. As they fell, Abdi saw his pirate brothers running past him. They surged forward wildly and stormed the control tower of the enormous container vessel.

Abdi frowned. His brothers did not look right. They wore medieval armor and their jaws hung slack. Their skin lay taught against their bones. They looked emaciated. Their eyes were empty. They said nothing, but merely shouted unintelligible sounds. Then he looked down and saw that he himself wore a shining metal breastplate emblazoned with a golden ankh.