Jak Inrik sat quietly on a crate as he watched the binary load lifters move about with their clunky limbs, carefully loading bacta tanks onto the transports. He'd been with the Brindon Exporting Company for ages but he'd never seen such a large shipment in his life. He had to admit the Tagge Company was outdoing itself when it came to being a loyal sycophant corpoartion of the Empire. So many free bacta tanks and what's more, made by the Cranscoc. Jak's grandfather had worked for the old Spaarti company before the Republic and Seperatists showed up and completely trashed the company. Those bugs sure did know how to make high quality stuff, just giving it to the Empire would probably earn the Tagges just more prestiege with the Imperial government, not like they weren't up to their necks in it already. The Tagge Company manufactured almost solely for Imperial interests at times, their weapons, their vehicles, their equipment, and now their bacta tanks, all going into the largest galactic government out there. It was no wonder the Tagge's didn't own many worlds like other big corporations did. There was no need too when the Empire let you operate in their space for a small tax.
"Hey Jak! Get your head of the the clouds! Lifter 3 is messing up again!"
Jak got to his feet quickly, running over to Lifter 3 who was currently walking into the wall. Jak screamed at it and carefully kicked it, knowing not to do it too hard as last time he made that mistake he had to be in a bacta cast for weeks to mend the bone.The Load lifter got the message easy enough though, even if it only spoke binary, it was doing something wrong and needed to adjust that so it promptly rebooted its instructions. The droid slumped for a moment before standing back up and going to loading again, letting Jak go back to his crate and daydream a little more while the final bits of the shipment were loaded up.
2 hours later
Jak walked up onto small bridge of the large bulk freighter that he'd been a crew member of for a couple years now. The pay wasn't too bad and the Brindon people paid well, but good grief what a boring life it was. All he really had to do was manage the load liftered during loading and unloading, after that it fell to Captain Gibbin. The Captain was a harsh old spacer, even for a Duros, who spent almost their whole lives in space. But Jak liked working for him, especially after long hauls because the captain would treat all of his crews to drinks and food at the local cantina. It was a good life, simple, but good.
"Captain, all four freighters are away now, fully laiden and awaiting orders."
"What's our ETA with our Imperial escort?"
"About ten hours sir, we're meeting them at their trade station."
"Alright then, lets get these bacta tanks on their way and get our big fat payment from the Empire," Gibbin's said with a chuckle.
The four large bulk transports calmly position themselves and leaped into hyperspace, their crews never knowing they would never see their end destination.
5 Hyperspace Hours Away
Interception Point
Pyter Flint stood calmly on the bridge of his flag ship,
Jutraalian Phantom, waiting quietly as the clock on the ship ticked down. He then nodded to his officer of the watch who picked up his comlink and issued an order. The Jutraalian Phantom's Interdiction field activated smoothly, its generators having been heavily modified for quick activiation and shut down by Union technicians. This left the Phantom little firepower for itself, but it never traveled alone. The Interdictor Crusier usually was escorted by a pair of Nebulon-B frigates,
Blood Phantom and
Bone Collector, both sporting Pyter's distinct emblem of a blood red skull and cross bones, though sporting eight bones arrayed in a circle around the tskull instead.
"What's the take on this Captain? Something big?" asked Pyter's 1st Mate, Brakka, a tall, muscled female Transdoshan with green scales and blood red eyes.
"Something very big, Brakka, big enough our
benefactors want it all undamaged, so remember, no targeting the cargo holds. We want everything in there intact or it'll be our hides."
"Aye, sir." Brakka turned and snarled into her comlink. "Listen up you wretches, just a reminder that if any of you do something to damage the cargo on our incoming targets, I'll have your damn hides for dinner!"
"Have I ever told you how much I love your sweet disposition, Brakka?" Pyter asked her with a grin.
"Aye, many times, Captain." Brakka gave Pyter a toothy grin.
Pyter laughed and then turned his attention to his tactical screen, making sure that everything was in place. His Y-wing groups were currently sitting in a wide perimeter around the interdiction field, waiting to close in on where the transports popped out at. He noted the trio of dreadnaughts sitting back would have been useful if had hadn't emptied the damn things out to use as loot vessels. They would move in and dock, unloading a large number of pirate raiders onto their intended targets who would secure the ships and then start transferring cargo.
"Sir, we've got hyperspace exits, four, just as predicted."
"Well, what are you louts waiting for? Attack!."
Brindon One
Captain Gibbin's Bridge
"What the hell's going on? Why did we revert from hyperspace?"
"Interdiction field, sir!"
"I've got multiple contacts, Captain!"
"Damnit!" Captain Gibbin slammed his fist into his chair.
"Good god, their coming in from all directions, its like they were waiting for us!."
"What emblem are they sporting?"
"Blood red skull in a circle of bones, Captain."
"Sith spawn! Pyter Flint! Evasive manuevers, try to get us out of this damn field, quick!"
Jak looked startled at just how shaken the captain was at hearing that name and looked up from his station.
"Sir, they've already got us, why try to escape, it'll only anger them."
"Because its frakking Pyter Flint, that why's, The Butcher of Ison. I'd heard he'd moved his operations but not this close to Imperial space so get off your ass, quit asking me questions and tell the crew to prepare to repel boarders, this is bad."
"Sir, I can't get in contact with our Imperial escort, the Pirates have already put up jamming."
"Y-wings closing in!"
"I have mutlitple warhead launches!"
The first volley of concussion missiles streaked forward, hammering into the engines and comm systems of the ship, their civilian level shielding and hulls no match for military grade weaponry. Another volley then flew in from the other side as the two Nebulons and three dreadnaughts moved in, the Y-wings hammering the transports with ion cannons. As the ships went dead, the dreadnaughts moved in, each docking with one of the other four transports other than Brindon One, leaving it for last.
Captain Gibbin sat on the bridge helplessly, listening to reports of barricades being built at the docking hatches and then felt a cold shiver run down his spine as the pirates dropped their jamming since all long range equipement was gone. He noticed a small blip also indicate the interdiction field was gone too, these pirates were clever, they had the prey they wanted so now they closed their trap so that they wouldn't pick up anyone else. What was worse is now Gibbin could hear the comsignals from his other ships as the pirates boarded them, the loud sounds of blaster fire and death. Brindon Four went silent first, shortly followed by Two and Three. The wait that followed was long and painful as Gibbin knew the pirates were emptying his cargoships at this very moment, having killed all the crews. They'd likely strip the ships for useful components after all four had been dealt with as well, leaving dead husks full of corpses behind.
Three Hours Later
The dreadnaughts undocked from their victims and the bridge crew watched them with dread, knowing that those large vessels, laiden with their goods would now dock with the final ship. Unable to take anymore, Gibbin snatched the blaster pistol from the holster on the back of his seat and ran to the turbolift, going down to the forward barricades. Jak was already there, having helped set up everything and turned a few load lifters into what looked like walking shields.
"All right everyone, be ready, these bastards intend on killing every one of us, so you better kill every one of them." Gibbin's clicked his blaster's safety off and waited.
There was a loud clang as the dreadnaught's boarding tube magnetically latched on and then silence for several minutes. The crew then watched in terror as the pirates began cutting through the door, sparks flying before the explosive charge the put on it went off, sending the doors flying across the corridor and destroying the makeshift shield load lifters. There was a blood thirsty cry and the pirates started to swarm aboard, firing their weapons. The crew and pirates began trading shots before another loud clang was head and Jak looked over at Captain Gibbin.
"What was that sir?"
"Another frakking dreadnaught docking. These bastards mean business." Gibbin said, grabbing Jak's collar and pulling him back just before a blaster bolt could leave a burning hole in his head.
Jak looked at the blaster hole where his head had been and felt ill, he was going to die, he knew it now. The pirates were starting to push forward, the crew falling back and now there was another entry point, pirates were pushing forward on both sides of the vessel, Jak could hear that from the captain's comlink. Crew casualties were rising and the pirates were advancing much more quickly throughout the ship.
"What are we gonna do captain?" Jak asked, looking pleadingly at the Duros, hoping for an answer.
"We go down fighting Jak, now come on."
Gibbin pulled Jak into the turbolift, leaving the rest of the crew behind to fend off the pirates as they ran back to the bridge, passing barricages the bridge crew had set up as well. Jak watched as the captain start activating some low tech image recording equipment.
"This is Captain Gibbin of the
Brindon One, and if you're seeing this, it means I'm already dead, as well as the rest of my crew. I'm making this recording to identify the pirates in the hopes someone will get these bastards someday. They're Pyter Flint's men and they're fighting their way through my ship now." Blaster fire and shouting start to be heard down the hallway. "I don't have much time, but that's all I can say anyways. I don't know what the hell they're gonna do with this shipment of bacta tanks for the Empire, but they've got it now."
Gibbin stopped the recording and then ejected the data cassette the message was on, walking over to a wall and sliding a panel open, hiding the cassette inside before sealing the compartment back up. Moments later the blaster fire stop and boots could be heard. Gibbin turned just in time to watch Jak get mowed down by blaster fire and Gibben himself sank to his knees in defeat. Why would anyone be so vile and bloodthirsty as this? Why poor Jak? Why his crew? The last thing Gibbin heard as he stared at the floor was someone walk up to him, press a blaster barrel to his head and pull the trigger...
Three More Hours Later
Pyter Flint watched as his ships undocked from the dead transports, the stripping finished and the cargo safely stowed away.
"Everything all packed up, Brakka?"
"Aye, sir. All ships report ready to hyperspace."
"Good, are they all ready to peform the scramble jump pattern?"
"Aye, everything is as you asked."
"Good, lets get the frak out of here then and leave the Empire to pick up the pieces."
Brakka chuckled and issued the orders, sending the pirate fleet into hyperspace away from the broken transports and on a mishmash of jump points no one could follow before making a long jump into the deep core. As the ships reverted to realspace several days later, they came upon a world buzzing with activity, shipyards sitting in orbit, large complexes visible on the dark surface. It was the Forge, the Union's secret base of operations.
"Well, Brakka, lets give the Chairman his shipment."
Brakka nodded and the pirate fleet began docking procedures with one of the Redoubt stations parked in orbit.
