Written by KatzenWriter for @MTrac1000 – July 15, 2020
Note: @KatzenWriter is the author of a number of Star Wars fan fictions, all of which can be found on his Wattpad profile upon publication. Those with an interest in the Clone Wars era and/or those keen on incorporating Legends material into the current Disney Canon may find interest in his works.
Just Outside of Imperial Space, 12 BBY
“Nobody has to die here,” was an admirably bold statement for a seventeen-year-old space pirate captain to make in regards to a vessel she had just bombarded several times with missiles and blaster fire, among many other things.
The ship in particular carried Imperial markings, but it could be described as anything but formal. It was a hunk of junk – some sort of modified combination of ships that, by all means, was a technological marvel in terms of functionality, but a very miserable excuse for a work of art. No matter, pirate shipmaster and Red Fleet Council Member Fren Montine was far from interested in the vessel itself – her focus was on it’s cargo.
A single round flung out from the vessel, flickering harmlessly into nothingness against the Seraphim’s shield network. “I don’t think they see it the same way,” Grim reported, glancing to the shipmaster.
Well, it wasn’t everyday that a shipping crew gets jumped out of nowhere by a salvaged Republic-era Venator-Class Star Destroyer.
Montine decided she’d give the disabled vessel the benefit of the doubt. “Let’s say they can penetrate our defenses with whatever it is they’re trying to use right now,” she spoke to Grim – he was the Seraphim‘s secondary commander, a clone, an ex-Commando from the old war no less. There were few men in the galaxy who had earned Montine’s respect, but he was one of them.
“What would we do then?”
“The way I see it,” the man grunted, “we want the cargo intact, so the best option will be to force a boarding. My teams would have them rounded up in minutes.”
He looked at her, “but you’re going to say no to that.”
“It’s on the list, it’s on the list.” Montine raised a hand, “but if there’s another way, then yes, I will say no.” The room felt cold; it helped her focus. “Okay. Get a bit closer, and let the Gargoyle cover the perimeter.”
What was the solution to having a crew that had a large composition of Clone Wars veterans? Using technology they were familiar with, of course. Montine only had a small number of ships in her arsenal, but most if not all of them had belonged to the Galactic Republic in the past. The Gargoyle slipped past the stricken vessel with its blue ion engines pulsating, patrolling the outer reaches of the sector. It was an Acclamator-class assault ship, not particularly meant for space combat – but it had a wonderful ability to hold everything a pirate operation needed in its enormous cargo bays.
Plus, Montine adored the colour code that the Republic’s navy had equipped during the war.
“Are they responding to transmissions yet?” she asked.
“No, ma’am,” the comms officer answered. It seemed, then, that the freighter was either incapable of sending messages – or, the more likely option, they were occupied sending a distress call.
“Strike their weapons systems, again.” she ordered. “They’ve made it quite clear that some of their guns still work.”
Beautiful blue beams lurched out from the top deck of the Seraphim, and explosions rippled over the outer hull of their target. For a moment, Montine wondered if they had accidentally annihilated the ship – but as the smoke began to dissipate it became clear her handpicked crew had hit their targets with deadly accuracy. “Well,” Grim said, “that will shut them up for a bit.”
“I hope not.” Montine said, “I want to talk to them. I’m tired of sitting here in silence – give me an open line.”
“Done.”
Wonderful. The shipmaster felt her cheeks heating up before she had even said anything, leaning forward in her seat. Her gaze focused intently on the cargo vessel. “Attention; Xellium. That is your designation, right? I can’t really tell through all the rubble. This is Shipmaster Fren Montine of the Red Fleet. I respectfully request that you lay down all arms and prepare to be boarded. Cooperate at this time, and there will be no casualties.”
Nothing.
But, Montine could tell they were listening. Even from oh so far away, she could see fuzzy figures moving about on the freighter’s command deck. Scurrying about like insects in a hive – one being smoked out with pesticides.
“Or,” she suggested, extending a hand. Of course, they couldn’t see it along with the message; but she liked to think the act made everyone, friendly or enemy, understand that she was entirely serious, “we can disable the distress beacon you have running, board your ship with elite soldiers, slaughter each and every one of your crew members followed by yourself, and take what we want, leaving nothing behind for the Empire to find other than the scraps of your remains.”
That certainly got their attention – a voice that almost assuredly belonged to the ship’s captain came back swiftly. “We have all bulkheads sealed and airlocks cut off, pirate. Reinforcements will be here momentarily, there is nothing for you here.” They had the voice of a man who was making a desperate lie – one that Montine saw right through.
“Don’t play games with me, Captain,” she said, “do you honestly think we didn’t plan this ambush? This is far from Imperial space, and your ship has been tracked by our vessel for weeks, waiting for the perfect moment. We both know how alone you are out here.”
The answer came after another minute of silence. “What do you want from us?”
“Your shipment of kyber crystals,” she said, “and you, as well as your command crew, for insurance. You will be placed at an Imperial-ranged spaceport in one piece, after our exit from this sector is guaranteed.”
“There are children aboard.”
Montine winced. “Which is exactly why cooperating with us will be the best outcome for everyone. Don’t try to pull at my heartstrings, Captain – we’re pirates.”
Grim quietly sighed, shaking his head. It wasn’t in the blood of a Clone Commado to sit around waiting on negotiations; they were told to do something, usually involving kicking down doors and shooting down soldiers, and then they executed that task with perfection. Montine pointed at him, and made a gesture.
Mobilize.
A glint of excitement crossed the man’s face, and he disappeared down the corridors.
“We need…” the freighter’s captain said, “we need insurance, on our end.”
Montine sighed. “Let me tell you something, captain. I have raided a great deal of Imperial vessels in the past, and each time, the crew has emerged alive, their ship in pristine condition – minus a few small scratches here and there. Once, even, members of a crew fought back.” She raised for herself to look at the golden prosthetic arm that acted as a replacement to a severe wound, “I was patient. They survived.”
They remained alive; exactly like the members of this crew would. All Montine intended to do was take some of them aboard, have fun with them and get the information she needed on possible future targets, then leave them to be recovered at one dump or another. What was pain but a reminder that one was living, and obviously, in enough sanity to understand their situation? She continued, “but I am much, much different in war. Do not turn this into a battle.”
The boarding shuttle drifted alongside the Xellium‘s airlock. Grim had clearly moved fast. Montine could see, in her mind, the team of Red Fleet Marines headed by her second, all itching for a fight. They knew better than to walk in with live ammunition, though. They had seen what their shipmaster did to survivors – which was exactly what they were going to bring her, otherwise, they would stand in their stead.
The captain of the Imperial vessel sighed quietly, “we will stand down, and the bridge crew will be waiting for your arrival. The cargo hold is unguarded now.”
“Thank you for your cooperation, Captain.” Montine leaned back, “I will take your formal generosity into account when you are aboard the Seraphim.” She took a breath, signaled to her comms officer to cut the transmission, and stood – making her way off of the bridge. “Signal the Gargoyle to return to formation. As soon as we have the prisoners and cargo, jump to the predetermined location. I will be in the brig.”
After all, following such a stressful mission, she deserved some relaxation. Some fun. And with Grim’s team docking with, and raiding the target freighter, Montine would soon have some new company to have that fun with.
The irony of what she had said earlier struck her, and she chuckled – it turned into a laugh. Oh, that truly was unfortunate. It was true, though. What she had said. She intended on fulfilling her promises, because what fun could be had with a corpse?
“Nobody has to die here,” she giggled to herself as she exited the elevator. “Oh, Montine, you’re a genius.”
Cries of agony greeted her on the prison deck.
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