Chapter One
The bulk cruiser Opal Pulse sped through the dark of space, its sublight engines burning blue and bright. A fiery explosion of golden light blasted against its shields, followed by a barrage of green and red blaster fire. The cargo ship attempted an evasive barrel roll, rotating like some kind of herbivore playing in the mud.
Two kite-like Cloakshape model starfighters followed in pursuit. The flying wing style fighters, each with a single rectangular spoiler behind the fuselage and twin blaster cannons mounted on each wing, diverted their courses to strike the bottom and top of the freighter simultaneously. They launched two bursts of ionized energy that penetrated its shields, the energy blasts spreading across the ship in jolts, shorting out subsystems and rendering it dead in space.
A shadow eclipsed the distant starlight, throwing the lifeless freighter into darkness. The predatory starship that approached the Opal Pulse fired a tethered penetrator, which slammed into the ship's hull with a sickening thud. The penetrator, a hardened durasteel spike, accomplished the same goal as a tractor beam, halting the freighter's relative motion and allowing the cargo ship to be pulled in, just as a predator would haul in prey towards its doom.
The predatory ship was shaped like an elongated oval, its rusted, bulbous hull giving it the appearance of sea coral. The ship was a heavily modified Mon Calamari corvette, with a flat underside that was perfect for docking with other ships.
The tether drew the Opal Pulse closer until it bounced against the corvette's hull. A docking tunnel equipped with a drill bit extended across the space between the two ships and then spun up, striking against the freighter's hull. Fiery sparks flew in all directions as the drill dug into the durasteel plating.
Inside the bridge of the corvette a tall feeorin male with dark blue skin reached above his head and grabbed a wired comlink mic from the ceiling. The feeorin was approaching middle age, his dreadlock-like head tendrils falling past his muscular shoulders. The end of each tendril decorated with a golden electrum ring, which clanked against each other faintly whenever the feeorin moved. He wore a red armored vest, a pair of black leather trousers, and two silver desh bracelets around each wrist. Completing the ensemble was a ring for each finger, all of them embedded with a different colored gemstone.
"Opal Pulse," the feeorin spoke, his voice deep and his tone commanding. "This is Koravin, dread captain of the Blackpool Flier. Your ship now belongs to me. Your full and complete surrender is required. Comm back now or forever hold your peace."
"They will surrender," Koravin assured his bridge crew, which consisted of a tall Mon Calamari first mate, an arachnid-like Aqualish pilot, and a catfish-faced Selkath navigator.
Pleff, the Mon Calamari, glanced over to his captain and smiled. "Quarter share says they don't surrender," he said.
"No bet, " Koravin answered. He allowed a few minutes to pass before activating the comm once again. "Opal Pulse, you had your chance. Flood them Opuk."
"Aye captain," answered Opuk, the Aqualish pilot, her voice a deep grumble. She flipped a few switches on her controls. Outside of the ship a reinforced drilling spike, mounted atop the docking arm, extended halfway across the space between the ships. The drilling spike suddenly shot forward, penetrating the freighter's hull. Saltwater began to pump into the Opal Pulse, flooding the hapless freighter.
"Blackpool Flier, this is the captain of the Opal Pulse, we surrender," a panicked voice shouted through the comm. "We surrender!" The sound of splashing water could be heard in the background.
"Too late," Koravin answered quietly to himself. "Give them a few moments to drown, Pleff," he said to his first mate. "And then go get the crew ready."
"Aye captain," Pleff answered. The Mon Calamari exited the bridge and walked down the central corridor of the ship until he arrived in the expansive cargo bay. Durasteel cargo containers were secured to the walls of the bay, and a huge tank of water was suspended from the ceiling. The water within it was sloshing around as a pump forced it into the Opal Pulse freighter.
A pair of Neelabi, a very short and stubby aquatic species, who were two of a group of sexpuplet twins aboard the Blackpool Flier, manned the controls of the tethered penetrator. The device consisted of a cannon-like apparatus mounted beneath the ship and a large reel of quadranium coil stored inside the cargo bay.
Standing beside them was the assault team. The team consisted of two leathery skinned Ishi-tib sisters, a bipedal frog-like Rybet, and a skinny orange Quarren, all of whom were readying their blasters.
"Remember, we don't know what the crew is," Pleff said to the group. "Or if they have breathers. So don't assume they are all dead, like last time," he added pointedly, glancing at the Quarren.
"It wasn't my fault," Walaa said with a shrug. "I didn't know wookies could hold their breath that long."
"You're lucky I blasted him," Saruush, the Rybet, said. "He would've had your arm off. And yours don't grow back," he added with a chuckle.
"Stop your bickering and get your arms ready," Pleff yelled. He grabbed a blaster rifle, a vintage Clone Wars era dc-15, from the gun rack situated next to the cargo bay airlock.
Pleff smacked the airlock release button and the assault team entered. He got in behind them and closed the door, after which the opposite airlock opened. Water flooded in, filling the room. The entirely aquatic crew easily swam across the docking tunnel and into the Opal Pulse.
The assault team stepped over a pair of human bodies and split up. Pleff led the group that worked their way towards the front of the freighter.
Meanwhile, back on the bridge of the Blackpool Flier, Captain Koravin awaited confirmation that the crew of the freighter was dead. It wasn't long before the comm unit crackled. "Captain, we got a couple of survivors," Pleff said. "They locked themselves in the cockpit. I think they got it shut before the water filled it up."
"Stubborn," Koravin said. "Half-stock, you out there?"
"Aye captain," one of the pilots of the Cloakshape fighters answered.
"Pop open the bridge will you. No blasters."
Half-stock, currently flying her cloakshape fighter in a wide patrol orbit around the two ships, turned her fighter on its wing and flew towards the front of the captive freighter. She decelerated until she hovered a few meters outside of the freighter's bridge. Inside a human captain and his co-pilot were up to their armpits in water.
Half-stock, a female Nautalan, bore a superficial resemblance to her Feeorin captain, albeit with thicker head tendrils, green skin rather than blue, and solidly black eyes, rather than ones with pupils. She pushed her fighter gently towards the freighter until its nose collided with the transparisteel canopy of the bridge. A vicious web of cracks formed, but the canopy did not shatter.
The two occupants of the bridge panicked and began wading back towards the door of their compartment. She pushed the fighter forward once more, causing the nose of her craft to smash violently through the transparisteel. The vacuum of space sucked the water and remaining air outwards, enveloping her fighter. One of the humans was thrown wildly out into space, while the other smacked into the cockpit of her fighter with a sickening thud before ricocheting away. "They are taken care of captain," Half-stock said with a slight grimace.
"Survivors are gone, Pleff," Koravin said, relaying the information to his first mate.
"Okay. The rest of the ship is clear," Pleff replied from inside the freighter.
"Secure yourselves," Koravin warned them. "Cargo bay, withdraw the water," he ordered through his comm.
After the water was pumped back out of the Opal Pulse Koravin boarded the captured ship. Stepping over the handful of bodies lying in the corridor, he walked through the damp corridor until he joined his assault team in the freighter's cargo bay.
"What do we got?" Koravin asked. His team stood in front of an armored container that was secured to the cargo bay floor with magnetic clamps.
"Don't know, haven't popped it open," Pleff answered. "Want the honors?"
"Just open the blasted thing," Koravin said with a slight snarl.
Pleff glanced at the others and delegated the order with a snap of authority. "Open it already, you lazy tadpoles."
The Ishi tib sisters, both of whom went by the name Elarza, used ionic force pikes on the container door's locking mechanism. The energy from the pikes shorted out the lock's electronic system and heated the durasteel metal until the blades melted through. They removed their pikes and pushed the doors open.
Cold fog emanated out of the container, momentarily obscuring the pirates' view of its innards. When the fog began to clear Koravin stepped inside, waving his hand past his face to clear more of the stubborn mist.
Metallic racks lined each side of the container, with a narrow path in between the rows. Koravin pulled out a shelf on one of the racks, which was on rollers. The shelf consisted of a tray of ice, within which was frozen a mass of gelatinous eggs.
"What is the prize captain?" Saruush, the Rybet, asked.
"Not sure," Koravin answered. "No labels. Pull the manifest from the ship's computers," he ordered.
"On it cappin," Walaa, the Quarren, answered. Pleff entered the container and examined one of the racks.
"Eggs? Should I be hungry, or horrified?" he asked.
"Let's find out," Koravin said. "Seal 'er back up, wouldn't want our cargo to thaw." He left the Elarza sisters behind to guard the container and ordered Opuk, who was still onboard the Blackpool Flier, to release the docking arm and maneuver their ship behind the Opal Pulse's cargo bay so they could begin preparations to transfer the container. Next he ordered Saruush to go through the rest of the ship and gather any other valuables that might be inside the crew compartments.
Koravin navigated his way back through the corridors, which were still damp from their flooding tactic, until he reached a closed blast door. Walaa was standing before it, still zipping herself into a vacuum suit.
"Central computer is on the bridge, will have to go in to access it," Walaa told Koravin.
"Are you sure you can slice it?" Koravin asked.
"That's why you pay me cappin'."
"Just get it done. I'll have the others move the container, call me when you finish."
By the time Koravin returned to the Opal Pulse's cargo bay Opuk had maneuvered the Blackpool Flier behind the freighter. It was a simple matter to extend and strengthen the rear deflector shields on the pirate's vessel, creating a temporary bubble within which they could open both ship's cargo bay doors without sucking them all into the empty dark of space. The seal from such a maneuver wasn't perfect, microscopic particles would slowly leak out, but as long as they worked quickly the loss of valuable atmosphere would be minimal.
The assault team received the 'go ahead' and lowered the cargo bay doors. On the other side two of the Neelabi twins waited in the Flier's cargo bay with a magnetic crane at the ready. The Elarza sisters used their pikes to undo the container's floor clamps, the ionic blades sizzling through the metal with an unpleasant screech. The crane extended between the two ships and smacked into the container violently.
"Careful you pond scum!" Pleff shouted. They retracted the crane and, moving much more carefully hauled the container onto the Flier.
Koravin and the others hopped across the gap between the two ships just as Saruush entered the Pulse's cargo bay. He carried two containers in each hand.
"What'd you get?" Pleff asked.
"We'll sort through it later, take it to the galley," Koravin interrupted, shaking his head at Pleff and gesturing with his hand for them to jump across to the Flier.
Koravin oversaw the crew as they secured the container inside the Blackpool Flier's bay. By the time they finished Walaa had hobbled awkwardly into the Pulse's cargo bay, still wearing her vacuum suit. She held a datapad in her hand and gestured towards Koravin.
He nodded and caught the datapad as she tossed it across the gap.
"Help her across," he barked at the Elarza sisters. They jumped back across the gap to the Opal Pulse's cargo bay, each one grabbing her and placing their arms around her waist. Together all three jumped across in unison, just barely clearing the gap.
"Alright, seal it up and push off," Koravin ordered. They closed the Flier's bay doors, allowing Opuk to speed them away from the derelict freighter. The captain left the others behind in the cargo bay and began walking towards the bridge.
"Captain, can I blow 'er up?" Half-stock asked over the comm, as she was still in her Cloakshape fighter.
"Negative, we can sell her to the Blood Salvagers. Only have to give 'em a location," Koravin said. "You and Cutter can dock your ships, we are jumpin' off."
He took his usual position on the bridge, standing behind Opuk and Kellash, the Selkath navigator, as they flew the ship. He placed one foot on the back of Kellash's seat, which was set a half deck lower than the entrance to the bridge.
As they jumped into hyperspace he opened the datapad that Walaa had tossed him earlier. He found the Opal Pulse's manifest and opened the file. The container they had taken was bound for Nar Shaddaa, the Smuggler's Moon. Nar Shaddaa orbited Nal Hutta, the homeworld and capital of the Hutts, the galaxy's most notorious gangsters. The buyer was a hutt from a kajidic, the Hutt name for their family-run criminal empires, that Koravin did not recognize. It had been purchased illegally from poachers on Naboo.
He opened the description of the cargo. The container held over a thousand opee sea killer eggs, the third largest undersea predator on Naboo. The creatures could best be described as hybrids, a cross between fish and crustaceans. They could grow to more than twenty meters in length once they reached adulthood, and they possessed multiple rows of huge bone-like teeth. They were known to eat anything they could physically fit inside their cavernous maws.
Koravin thought he would faint with excitement. The opee sea killer was a rare catch, even on its native world. Each egg would be worth thousands of credits. Images of all the upgrades he could afford on the Blackpool Flier after unloading the shipment flashed through his head. But he would keep one egg for himself.