By I. J. Thompson

Illustrated by Allan Whincup

In distant Elrood Sector, friends come and go, alliances are forged and broken, and in the world of freelance galactic trading, nothing is ever as it seems.

Now, on an independent orbital space station high above the remote jungle paradise of Almar, a handful of young heroes prepares to form an alliance against overwhelming odds...

Chapter 1

"RRROOAAARRGGHHHH!"

Itar Grendling flung himself backward, somersaulting clumsily over the back of his chair and narrowly avoiding having his face raked open by the Barabel’s wicked claws. The enraged alien batted the barroom table to one side, and leaped at the young man. Itar scrambled away in a panic, barely getting to his feet in time to avoid being caught round the ankle by the creature’s massive, crushing hands.

It’s just not fair, Itar lamented in his head as he dodged and weaved around the barroom, mad Barabel two steps behind, I don’t even know what I did to get him mad at me!

And indeed, the whole fiasco had begun innocently enough. Itar and dozens of other sports fans had crammed themselves into booths and tables at the Blind Comet, the nicest cantina on the space station Almar Upside, to enjoy Game 5 of the Outer Rim Gravball Finals. It had been a tense, close game, with the team from Elrood sector’s capital emerging victorious in the last few seconds. The bar had erupted with cheers, everyone proudly pounding each other on the back and slapping hands. Itar had noticed the gleeful, cheering Barabel across the table, and had said happily, "Good game!"

Now, he was running for his life amid the panicked shouts of a roomful of confused, drunken aliens. Careening down an aisle between tables he passed a tipsy Arconan, who wobbled from side to side, screeching "Call security!" over and over again. The being was picked up by the Barabel, and thrown bodily into the centre of a table full of Duros, who boodle-oodled in indignation. Itar kept running, feeling the back of his flight suit being split open by his pursuer’s razor-sharp claws.

Why me? He thought to himself in dismay, and kept on running…

In another corner of the station, at one of the many spacer’s cafés, Avery Kranzt finished the last of his voyager’s breakfast and, as he approached the till area, fished in his pockets for the six-credits-fifty his meal had cost.

"How was your breakfast, sir?" the droid attendant asked.

"Fine, fine…" he replied, anxious to meet back up with Grakkata, and see what this ‘meeting’ she had called was all about.

"Let’s see," the droid went on, searching its memory banks for Avery’s order, "one voyager’s breakfast. Your total is…" and then, in a strange voice, "<sixty-five credits>".

Avery looked at the blank-faced droid. "Uh, no, voyager’s breakfast, six-credits-fifty."

The droid answered politely. "Precisely, sir. One voyager’s breakfast, <sixty-five credits>."

Avery sighed. It looked like it was shaping up to be one of those days…

"Clear the bay immediately!" came the cry over Resh’s comm, and it was easy to see why. Inside the hangar behind him, scores of bounce shuttles like the one he now rode in were spilling out into the vacuum of space, indicating a malfunction of the bay’s magnetic field had occurred. Waves of the small vehicles came hurtling at him, and he stressed the shuttle’s thrusters to the limit avoiding them. The ones he couldn’t steer away from struck his bouncer, sending the tiny, bubble-domed vehicle into a wild spin. Reorienting the craft, Resh cursed the bay operators as they began to bring their tractor beams to bear.

When the way was finally made clear, he accelerated his bouncer over the surface of the station, his way lit by light reflected from the glimmering orange and blue planet Almar below.

Now, he thought to himself as he expertly steered the shuttle toward the hangar that bordered on the hotel and conference areas of the station, to see what Grakkata’s ‘meeting’ is all about…

By now, Upside security had responded to the alert in the Blind Comet, and hurled themselves into the fray. Itar stood back, panting wildly, while the team finally pinned the enraged Barabel to the floor. A pair of security officers made their way over to Itar, to get a statement. He explained the events as best he could, emphasizing his innocence in the situation. "I mean," he concluded, "all I said was, ‘good game’!"

The two security officers looked at one another, doing their best to contain bubbling laughter.

"What?" Itar demanded, about fed up with this whole business.

"You can’t say ‘good game’ to a Barabel," the first officer replied through a case of the giggles. Itar just folded his arms across his chest, waiting for an explanation.

"Loosely translated?" The other officer continued, "It means: ‘you are like mucus!’" The pair erupted into howls, holding each other upright. Itar looked around at the upended bar, the cuffed Barabel, and decided now would be a good time to go and see if Grakkata had gotten her ‘meeting’ arranged…

"Look, I can pay you the six-credits-fifty I owe you, or I can blast you to bits!" Avery said, at his wits’ end.

"Correct! There isn’t any need for gunplay when you can, as you say, simply pay me the <sixty-five credits>!" replied the droid, politely.

"Let me see your manager."

"My manager has gone to watch the gravball match, and won’t be back until later. Please, the <sixty-five credits>?"

Avery exhaled in exasperation, looking around. Every other being in the cheap, plastic restaurant was looking at him like he was some kind of troublemaker, but on the other hand, he wouldn’t be held up one more minute because some two-bit, greasy-spoon serving droid couldn’t keep its decimals together.

Raising his blaster into the robot’s shiny face, he pulled some coins out of a pocket, and counted them out one by one on the counter.

"Six-thirty, forty, and… fifty. How’s that?" he looked down the barrel of the blaster at the frightened droid.

"**That-will///be-fine**…" the robot stuttered, its logic matrixes burning at what it thought to be an obvious miscalculation.

"Thank you." Avery hissed and, holstering his blaster, made his way out into the bustling station corridor. It was only a moment before he heard the annoying, metallic voice shouting after him. "Wait! Wait!" it called, and he once again drew his blaster and turned around.

The droid skidded to a halt, and held up a small sliver of plastic it carried in one hand.

"You forgot your complimentary toothpick!"

RO-6 watched the three beings enter the room, noticed them nodding at one another stiffly, and was amused. Introductions between organics could be such an ordeal, it seemed. Such was not the case with droids. Her kind simply announced to each other, in brief, their individual specifications and proficiencies. If the droids were compatible, they stuck together for the duration of their assigned duties. If not, they deserted one another with nary a goodbye.

One such example was the dull black mechanical that now rested at her feet, the demolition droid LIN-D0T. Short, hemispherical, and quiet nearly to the point of being antisocial, Dot was not the sort of droid Arro-Six was used to dealing with. However, her mistress Grakkata had put her in the droid’s company, and so she did her best to make the best of it.

Dot brightened up significantly, however, at the appearance of his owner, Avery Kranzt. He rumbled toward his master, croaking out a greeting in his strange language.

"Rrrrr-hh-hrrr…"

"Hi, Dot," Avery replied, bending down to pat the robot affectionately. "I’ve got some new people for you to meet." He lifted his hand to encompass the others. "This is Itar Grendling, and Mirren Anjivar Resh."

"Hi," Itar replied, giving the droid a wave.

"Hi," echoed the Gotal, wincing slightly.

Everyone smiled at each other for an awkward moment, then Resh spoke up. "Well, Arro, what’s the big idea? We’ve all met, now what are we doing here?"

"Yeah," Itar continued, "where’s Grakkata?"

As if in answer to his question, a hatch on the other side of the room hissed open, and the Wookiee woman who had brought them all to Almar Upside raised her great, hairy paws in greeting.

"Mistress Grakkata says ‘hello’ to you all, and is happy to finally see you all together in one place." Arro said, assuming her customary role as translator for the hulking being. With another word from the Wookiee, she continued. "She has a proposal for you all, and has asked me to explain it to you. We hope that you will find it to your liking."

While everyone seated themselves, the droid continued. "As you are already aware, Grakkata has been operating as a solo pirate in Elrood sector for a number of years. Although her exploits are clearly illegal, she is honour bound to rob only Imperial transports, and other pirates… no one she deems truly innocent is ever attacked. This has been working well enough, but in recent months, the bolstering of Dorok Zalaster’s pirate horde has caused her to lie low, or face certain destruction. The competition has simply become too great for one Wookiee on her own to compete. All that could change, however, if she had a crew… this is where the three of you come in."

"Hrrrr-rrrrr!" Dot interrupted.

"Pardon me," the shining droid corrected herself, "this is where the four of you come in." Seemingly satisfied, the black-domed robot allowed her to continue.

"Though she met all of you quite by accident, Grakkata is impressed with your individual talents - Avery’s formidable combat skills, Itar, your experience aboard space transports, and Resh, the perceptive abilities inherent in your race. The six of us here gathered seem to complement one another very well. And so Grakkata would like to offer you this proposition: all the shipping, smuggling and piracy in Elrood sector that we can handle. In return, each crewmember will receive five percent of the ship’s revenue; Dot and myself excluded, of course. This will leave eighty percent of the profits dedicated to starship maintenance for the Treespirit, which we’re sure you’ll agree is reasonable. Please take a moment and discuss this between yourselves."

Arro watched the Gotal and two humans turn toward one another, discussing the finer points of the agreement. There wasn’t much to be said, Avery summing it up best.

"Hey, what else am I gonna do? Go home?"

Itar and Resh echoed his sentiments, and soon all were on their feet, shaking hands in lieu of any kind of written contract. Pleased, Grakkata howled out a few words proudly.

"Our timing couldn’t be better," Arro translated, "lots are currently being drawn for a lucrative cargo, down in Assembly Court Five."

They arrived in the large chamber, surrounded by a great many traders and smugglers of several species. The room was hot, and standing room only. As they waited for things to get underway, a short, oily fat man sauntered up to them, and planted himself in front of Grakkata. The expression on his bearded face looked somehow sour and amused at the same time.

"Well well, Grakkata," he mocked, "come to make an honest living like the rest of us? Shouldn’t you be out robbing the innocent?" He looked around, taking in Itar, Avery and Resh for the first time. "Oh, I see. Your greenhorn crew probably doesn’t want to get dirty!" Grakkata growled menacingly at him and he backed away, looking amused, chubby hands in the air.

"Oh, I’m really sorry. Hey, I wouldn’t want you to make me ‘walk the plank’, ya know?" He slithered off into the crowd, leaving Avery wondering if he shouldn’t chase him down and smack him when, thankfully, an older man took the podium and addressed the rough-looking crowd.

"Good day, gentlebeings, and thank you all for being here. I’ve come to you today representing Solistar Shipping who, I may remind you, is not in the habit of hiring freelance traders to transport any of our cargos." Some in the room muttered angrily, but made no motion to leave. "That being said, I’m here today because I have to hire some of you. You see, an unfortunate ‘accident’ has occurred. We have in our possession a large shipment of metals, which was to be picked up yesterday and delivered to Lanthrym by one of our container ships, the Ol’ Reliable. Before it made it here, the Ol’ Reliable was hit by Dorok Zalaster’s pirate gang, who ripped it to slag looking for what they’d mistakenly heard would be a load of heavy weapons.

"Now, I’ve got a load of metals that have to get to the old Iceball pronto. Then, there’s another small load I need to get back. The first ship to land on Lanthrym will get the return haul. The base rate is 13 credits, and that’s nothing to gripe about. Now, I’ve looked over the technical specifications of all your ships that you’ve provided, and I’m fairly pleased with the lot of you. A handful of vessels did not make first cut however, and their names are coming down this screen to my right."

As the names appeared, a few captains around the room could be heard cursing in anger, and storming out. Everyone else looked on hopefully.

"The rest of you are fair game, so it’s time to draw lots." Without fanfare, he plunged his hand into a large spherical bowl that stood beside him, pulling out plastic chits and announcing what was written on them to the assembly.

"The Geezer, Nedder Nilby commanding…

"Far Reach, Frema Deb commanding…

"Treespirit, Grakkata commanding…" He continued on, and all the pilots began to shuffle around excitedly. As the Treespirit crew made ready to leave, a smug-faced Frema Deb passed them on his way out the door, calling back to them.

"See you in the lanes…"

The group was assembled in one of the many hangar bays dotting the surface of Almar Upside, watching with admiration as technicians and B-1 worker droids toiled around them, loading cargo and performing standard preflight maintenance. Avery gazed fondly at the Ghtroc freighter towering over them, its forest camouflage hull giving it the appearance of a sleek, deadly weapon of war.

"This Treespirit’s a fine ship," he remarked, "I’ve seen her take a beatin’. Let’s hope she’s as fast as she is tough – it’d be nice to get that return haul."

"Yeah," Resh replied, "but what’s with this thirteen credit business the Solistar guy was taking about? You can’t tell me we’ll only get thirteen credits for this…"

"No," Itar answered him, chuckling. "That’s just a base rate – you factor it in with cargo capacity, and time spent en route. This is going to earn us five thousand, two hundred sixty-five. I checked."

"What’s that mean for each of us?" Avery asked with interest.

"Two sixty-three and a quarter."

"Hey," Resh said, his mood brightening, "that’s almost a week’s wages, back at Capital City Port Control!"

They stood about, watching the hangar employees tune up the Wookiee’s ship, both inside and out. One of the technicians, unseen deep inside the Treespirit’s hyperdrive compartments, sucked a cigaro happily as he wired a small sabotage device into the vessel’s lightspeed drive. Pockets bulging with credits graciously provided by Frema Deb, he stood, ground out the cigaro under one heel, and departed the craft, eager to go and sample the finest liquors the Blind Comet had to offer…

The maintenance concluded, and the droids left to amuse themselves in the ship’s lounge area, Grakkata and her new crew strapped themselves into the Treespirit’s cockpit seats as the vessel was given clearance to leave the station. The great forest-coloured hulk glided out of the bay, landing gear folding neatly into its belly. When the ship’s navicomputer beeped its confirmation of their course, Grakkata hooted happily, slapping hairy paw to hand with Itar, who sat in the copilot’s chair. Resh and Avery, who sat in the two rear seats, matched the gesture, and then the Wookiee woman yanked back on the hyperdrive levers, propelling the Treespirit into a dazzling corridor of dancing light.

Chapter 2

When they finally pulled in over the frozen world of Lanthrym, hours overdue, their moods were as bleak as the barren, icy surface below.

"I just can’t believe it," muttered Avery, slumped in his chair, "Our first job together, and we’re played for suckers. What a bunch of rubes!" In his hands he held the spent, burned-out sabotage device, turned it over and over in frustration.

"And to top it all off," Itar added, "now we get to slog around through the snow. I would have preferred a planet with a more mild climate."

Resh perked up. "You don’t need to worry about that, all the cities are underground. We’re going to the town where I grew up. But believe me - when we get there, you may wish you were on the surface."

Grakkata just harrumphed in distaste.

The Treespirit was given clearance to land in Capital City, and shortly was descending one of the grubby vertical docking tubes to the hangars below. Upon landing, a word with the resident dockmaster confirmed their suspicion: they were the last of the Solistar freelancers to arrive.

"Who was first?" Resh asked, already knowing the answer.

The man consulted a datapad, spoke back to him. "A vessel called Far Reach."

Grakkata growled angrily, and looked like she was going to start breaking things. Itar stepped in, diffusing the situation. "Well, at least we made our credits for the cargo we have."

"Yeah," Avery added, "who needs the return haul? We can probably find something else right here!" And sure enough, the local Solistar representative had entered the hangar, and was headed toward them with their payment in his hands. While Grakkata and Arro wrapped up the business end of things, Avery, Resh and Itar assisted the hangar crew in the unloading of the Treespirit’s holds… making certain to allow none of the technicians inside the ship.

"Well," Itar said, the unloading finished, "We’ve got a little money, and a lot of time. What does everybody want to do?"

Resh raised his hand in the air politely.

"Drink."

Frema Deb and his crew sang proudly, if tunelessly. Mugs swinging in the air, the greasy band of free traders looked more than pleased to be irritating the rest of the patrons at Lockjaw’s.

Across the murky bar, in a quiet booth, Avery hung his head, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "I think I’m gonna be sick."

"Ditto," Resh agreed, scowling across the room at the bearded fat man and his cronies.

"No – I mean, I think I’m really gonna be sick." He peered at the frosty mug of thick, pink goo on the table in front of him. "This Trandoshan mead is messing with my equib… equilibrium…"

Grakkata honked out laughter, Resh joining in. "Serves you right," the Gotal mocked, "the waitress said that stuff wasn’t for amateurs!" He took a swig from his own bottle of Tozz, smiled soberly.

"Beats me why you would skirt disaster with any of that stuff, anyway," Itar puzzled aloud. "What happens if one of these hotheads decides to start a brawl, or something?"

"Don’t you know?" Resh laughed, "A good buzz numbs the pain!"

Avery pounded a fist on the table anxiously. "I wouldn’t mind starting a brawl myself, with those gloating slugs over there!" He started to rise drunkenly, was forced back down by Grakkata’s steady hand, and a growl of warning.

"Listen to the Wookiee, mate," Itar advised him, not unkindly. "We don’t know for sure that Frema Deb planted that thing in our hyperdrive." He glared across the bar at the beaming man. "Not to mention, they outnumber us almost three to one…"

Their view of the Far Reach’s crew was suddenly obscured by a red cloaked Devaronian, who had risen from his own table and was making his way toward them. The horned alien stood in front of their booth, and treated them all to what it probably thought was a disarming smile. Looking at each of them in turn, his gaze settled on their Wookiee captain.

"Known you are as the Wookiee Grakkata?" he hissed.

Casually, she grunted an affirmative.

The Devaronian turned back toward the room, and waved a dismissing hand over Deb and his cronies. "Not a need have you to race with the likes of him. When your fellows and you have followed me, the richer for you all. For Boss Kaggle has a work for the smart ones…" He began moving toward Lockjaw’s front entrance, beckoning for the others to follow. Grakkata and her crew looked at one another for a moment, then all followed suit as the Wookiee rose from the booth, in pursuit of their alien guide. In single file they marched out of the smoky bar, a staggering Avery bringing up the rear.

Frema Deb paused in his reveling to watch them go, then turned, laughing, toward his companions.

"Past their bedtime!"

The rain hammered down upon them, falling from sprinklers in the city’s ceiling high above. Their Devaronian guide had led them, on foot, to an older part of Capital City, and was now making his way toward an ornate building that looked as if it had been standing for some time. Kicking aside soggy garbage, the horned alien approached the building’s impressive wooden doors, now guarded by two surly Gamorreans. The piggish guards crossed their vibroaxes in his path, studied him quizzically.

Avery, Resh and Itar looked at each other, smirking, as their guide let fly with a stream of insults, describing in vivid detail what would happen to the two guards if they didn’t let him inside. Though the expressions on the Gamorrean’s faces couldn’t be read, it seemed the Devaronian had made some sort of impression. The vibroaxes were lowered, the great doors drawn wide, and the group of them proceeded into the building’s large main hall, their guide leading them to a turbolift on the other side.

"Standing outside, they want you," he griped, stalking ahead of them in his red robes. "Weren’t recognize own boss, Greppa!" He led them past the rough looking types milling around the main lobby, some talking, some sleeping, and hit the lift call button.

"You see Kaggle. Kaggle see you…" he said, still stewing, "big deal."

Not certain if he was being sarcastic or not, the four of them simply nodded, and entered the lift. With a swish of repulsorlifts they were proceeding upward, their Devaronian guide forgotten below.

Itar shuffled nervously in the cramped turbotube, caught Grakkata’s eye. "So, what exactly do you know about this Boss Kaggle, anyway?"

The Wookiee’s response was as brief as it was unintelligible: "Rooark!"

"Here’s what I’d like to know," added Resh, craning his neck as he examined the walls of the tube. "Where are the controls on this thing?"

"It must all be done from the outside," Avery supposed, examining the escape hatch over their heads. "Or a central control, somewhere."

Before they had time to get nervous, the lift tube had stopped, its door sliding away into the wall. The four of them stepped out into a small chamber, on the opposite end of which stood a heavy blast door bordered by two human guards in large, red helmets. The guards wordlessly studied them for an uncomfortable moment, until one of them hoisted his blaster, reached for the door’s controls and told them, "Go on inside."

The heavy door vanished into the ceiling, the Wookiee and her crew stepping into a tall, narrow office. As the blast door once again sealed itself behind them, the foursome studied the ornate chamber, noticing the glittering chandelier above them, the plush, wine-coloured carpeting beneath their feet. High bookshelves lined the walls on either side, tall and deep enough even to house the occasional walk-in closet. The shelves themselves were mostly devoid of any printed reading material, instead littered with a staggering array of artifacts which appeared to be equal parts junk, and genuine objets d’art. A tall window loomed at the opposite end of the room, looking onto the building across the street, the view occasionally disrupted by passing repulsor traffic. Beneath this a great, heavy desk sat, in front of which were two vacant chairs. On the other side there rested another chair, upon which sat a small being, its head barely seeing over the desk. As the four of them realized they were not alone in the chamber, the being spoke to them in a shrill, nasal voice.

"Well, hello there!"

To their bewildered amusement, the little alien hoisted himself up onto the desk, walking across its surface and plopping down to the plush carpeting on their side. The skinny, hairless being strode across the chamber toward them, his hand extended in greeting.

"Pleased to meet you! I’m Boss Kaggle!"

Avery stepped forward, trying not to make a show of bending over to shake hands with the squeaky-voiced alien, who came up to the young man’s waist.

"Likewise. My name is Avery Kranzt, crewman aboard the Freespirit. This is Itar Grendling, Resh, and our Captain, Grakkata." Boss Kaggle enthusiastically shook hands with all of them, babbling pleasantries the whole time.

"Hey, how are ya? Good to see ya…"

Then the little being was swishing across the carpet back toward his chair, choosing to go around the desk, this time. "Please, take a seat," he told them, indicating the two stiff chairs that rested across from him. Grakkata and Avery seated themselves, Itar and Resh choosing to remain standing. The Gotal cast a glance back toward the door, taking note of a strange, slightly golden hue to the room’s atmosphere. He could detect no unusual aroma, and wasn’t sure what he might be looking for, anyway. It must just be the light from that funny chandelier up there, he thought, turning his attention back toward their new acquaintance.

"Now, I won’t lie to ya," Kaggle told the Wookiee, sizing her up with his eyes. "I can’t say I’ve never heard the name Grakkata before. Your exploits in Elrood sector are nearly legendary. The truth is, I’ve had Greppa keeping an eye out for you for some time… I’ve been hoping we could do a job together, someday!"

Grakkata hooted a response, Avery guessing as to its meaning. "What sort of job are we talking about, here?"

"The best kind," Kaggle told him, a gleam in his eye. "I’m talking about sticking it to the man! Stealing toys from Senõr Palpatine!"

"A ground raid?" Itar asked, not very happily.

"No no," Kaggle spoke up. "This is a pirate hit. Just the way you like it. My sources have told me that there’s an undefended Imperial cargo hauler headed for Derilyn, with a stopover at Coyn. I’d like you to ambush ‘em at Coyn, and bring the goodies back to me."

"What’s aboard?" Resh asked.

Boss Kaggle looked up at the Gotal, favouring him with a slightly maniacal grin. "Fun stuff," he beamed, "troop supplies…"

Prodded by Grakkata, Avery asked the next question. "How much?"

Kaggle sat back in his chair, resting his feet on the desktop.

"How does a cool ten grand sound?"

The four of them looked at one another, trying not to let their excitement show. With a grunt from the Wookiee, Avery stood.

"That sounds pretty good."

"Glad to hear it!" Boss Kaggle exclaimed happily, rising to walk them to the door. "I just knew we’d get along!"

They paused in the doorway, Kaggle talking excitedly up at them. "Now, don’t waste any time getting there. My sources say the Imps’ll be leaving Coyn in eight hours – that doesn’t leave you much time. I’ll have your money waiting when you bring me my stuff. Any questions?"

Itar was sure there must be something left to ask about, but couldn’t think of anything. They all looked at one another blankly for a moment, then Kaggle continued. "Good. Go get ‘em, boys!" he said cheerfully, and was swiftly separated from them by the descending blast door.

Wordlessly, the quartet passed the guards outside, and stepped into the waiting turbolift.

Chapter 3

"I got ‘em!"

Grakkata and Avery hurried over to have a look at Resh’s sensor screen for themselves. The Gotal adjusted gauges, focusing in on the little yellow blip flashing across his monitor.

"It’s just a crate with a hyperdrive. Minimal weaponry, sluggish engines… but definitely Imperial. I have to admit, this Boss Kaggle sure can pick ‘em! Okay, I’ll start jamming now…"

Itar looked out the cockpit glass, caught sight of the boxy vessel coming into view, lit by the pinkish planet Coyn below. "It’s no wonder you’ve lasted so long in this business, Grakkata. The Imps out here sure do take some foolish chances! Anywhere else in the galaxy, and they’d be flying a Star Galleon…"

Arro-Six spoke up, hanging on to a safety strap as Grakkata accelerated the Treespirit toward the small container vessel. "The Empire has never placed a lot of emphasis on our sector. Our resources are few, and there is no Rebel resistance to speak of. Moff Villis Andal is forced to make do with the scraps thrown him by the Grand Moffs, lucky for us."

Avery dropped himself into the gunnery chair, warmed up its monitor and began flipping switches. "I’m on the guns!" Over their heads a metallic groaning became audible, as the cockpit-mounted laser turret rotated into life.

With a roar of excitement, Grakkata screamed in over the transport, its hull peppered by multiple blasts from Avery’s cannons. The transport returned fire in kind, hammering away at the back of the Treespirit as it continued past. Itar ably angled their deflector shield into the path of the laser bolts, soaking up their energy like so much starlight. Resh had activated the comm, and was communicating their obvious intentions to the crew of the small container vessel.

"Attention, Imperial vessel. Stand down your weapons and prepare to be boarded. Resist, and be destroyed." Punctuating his words, there was a roar and a blinding flash as one of the hauler’s gun emplacements was destroyed by a well placed shot from Avery. The young man wiped perspiration from his forehead, paused a moment in his onslaught to shake the stiffness from one hand.

"You know, I think I’m gonna like this!"

With the Imperial ship’s firepower cut in half, it became an easy matter for Itar to continue deflecting the dangerous laser bolts that continued sizzling their way. Grakkata kept on flying crazy circles around their quarry, while Avery chipped away at it with the cannons. Between the efforts of all four of them, it wasn’t long before the wounded ship responded on Resh’s channel.

"Attention, pirate vessel. We submit to your demands. Please stop firing." Judging from the background noise behind his voice, it seemed that part of the vessel’s bridge might be on fire.

Resh cut the channel, slapping his console triumphantly. "Yes! Smooth as glass!"

"All right, how do you want to do this?" asked Itar, rising from his seat and hitching his gun belt snugly. The Imperial hauler loomed large outside the cockpit windows, as Grakkata made ready to link the two vessels together.

"I have an idea," Avery volunteered, calling back toward the Treespirit's lounge area. "Hey, Dot? Dot, get up here!"

The dull black droid appeared in the corridor, rumbling slowly toward them. Avery kneeled in front of the robot, patting its armoured dome affectionately. "Are you ready to earn your stripes as a space pirate, little buddy?"

Dot rolled back and forth slightly, grumbled out a low response.

"Hrr, rrr-hhrrrr..."

"All right, men," the commander spoke urgently to the four naval troopers in the airlock hatchway, "It's a small vessel, and the crew complement can't be that large." He rung his hands together nervously, Adam's-apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed hard. "In thirty seconds, you will open that hatchway, and kill every one of those pirate scum. I don't want any prisoners, and I don't want any foul-ups. These vagabonds are no match for your training and skill." That said, he turned away from the troops, running down the corridor as fast as his black-booted feet would carry him.

The troopers shot each other an exasperated look, and brought their pistols to bear on the airlock door. After a glance at his chronometer, the lead trooper reached toward the wall, and thumbed the door mechanism. 

The thick partition vanished into the ceiling, revealing a long, large flexible tube connecting their vessel to that of their attackers. No pirates could be seen in the tube, however, most of the trooper's view blocked by a large, black metal circle that floated in the vacuum, just outside the range of their ship's gravity field. Confused, the commanding trooper stepped forward tentatively to examine the strange object.

"Careful, people. It could be some kind of explosive device."

As he stepped forward, he took notice of a long, narrow opening across the front of the round, black machine. From this opening emerged a mechanical eye on a stalk, which swiveled around to look at him. As it studied him, the machine spoke: "Rrrr, hr-hhrrrrrr..."

"What the...?" was all the commander had time to say as he was shot down by Avery Kranzt, who had leaped out from behind Dot's floating, armoured shape. The three remaining troopers opened fire angrily, blaster bolts harmlessly bouncing off the robot's heavy bulk. Avery continued to take potshots from behind Dot, while Grakkata, Itar and Resh propelled themselves up the tube to join him, shooting around the floating demolition droid. It wasn't long before the three naval troopers had joined their commander in lying face-down in the corridor.

"Good work, Dot," Avery praised the robot as he pushed him into the Imperial vessel, reorienting the droid into an upright position. Grakkata and the others followed close behind, Itar examining the corridor expertly.

"All right, guys," he announced, "We should secure the bridge, first. This way."

Beep-beep.

Arro-Six sat upright in her chair, looking around the Treespirit's deserted bridge for the source of the intruding noise.

Beep-beep.

Banks of machinery sat quietly, lights blinking serenely, in stark contrast to the chaos reigning in the connected Imperial cargo hauler. The silver droid studied readout screens, paused to look more intently at the station Resh had been manning just a few minutes ago.

Beep-beep.

"Oh, my!"

Pulling herself out of her seat, the chrome robot clattered down the hallway as fast as her whirring gears would allow. Rounding the corner to the airlock, she was rammed midsection by a floating cargo case that Resh was pushing toward the Treespirit's cargo bay.

"Careful there, Arro," the Gotal said cheerfully, "fresh hot goods, comin' through!"

"Mr. Resh, sir," the droid replied frantically, "we're not alone out here, anymore!"

Punctuating her words, the vessel was suddenly rocked by a volley of blaster fire. Behind them, the sound of angry Wookiee roaring reached them from the direction Resh had come from, inside the flexible docking tube.

The Gotal seized Arro by the shoulder, spoke tersely. "The others weren't far behind me. Go and get them right now."

Needing no further instruction, the robot hurried toward the tube, while Resh turned away, sprinting for the bridge. His console beeping loudly for attention, Resh threw himself into his chair and commenced running a sensor focus on the red blip that buzzed angrily over his readout screen. At this range, their attacker's identity was revealed to him in seconds: The Last Thing.

"Zalaster!" he shouted, and was answered by a howl of rage from Grakkata, who had just made it to the bridge. Looking back at his sensor display, the Gotal was dismayed to see five slightly smaller blips appear in the space around them, circling in for the kill.

"His scout ships just pulled in, too!" Resh announced. "We've got to get out of here!" Grakkata already had the drives activated, and was making hyperspace calculations while she waited impatiently for the others to get back aboard.

Avery's voice came to them from somewhere in the Treespirit's belly. "We're here! Docking tube detached and secured!"

Without waiting another second, Grakkata launched her ship away from the doomed Imperial vessel, all five scout ships in pursuit. But before the pirates could bring their weapons to bear, their quarry had disappeared into the blackness of distant space.

"Tsk, tsk," Boss Kaggle said, shaking his head in sympathy. "Dorok Zalaster? That rat's an embarrassment to your great profession!".

It was 'daylight' in Capital City, an orange glow coming from the spotlights in the city ceiling high above Kaggle Tower. The light streamed in the little alien's tall office window, mixing strangely with the already unusual vague yellow light inside the chamber. Kaggle gazed out the window for a moment, studying the buildings on the other side of the street, then turned back toward Grakkata and her crew.

"But you're alive, that's the important thing. Zalaster'll get his comeuppance another day." He leaned back in his chair. "So, what have you brought me?"

Avery stiffened. "What do you mean, 'what have we brought you'? We were attacked, weren't you listening?"

The little alien shrank back in his chair, seemingly alarmed by the young human's temper. "W-well, surely y-you were able to get me something..."

"One case of stormtrooper armour is all," Resh explained. "Four suits."

Their host shuddered in his chair, looking peeved. "Four suits! What am I gonna...?" Dabbing his forehead with a handkerchief, he took a few deep breaths, seeming to get control of himself. "Alright, well, things go wrong. You understand, of course, that I won't be able to pay you..."

Seeing that Avery was turning a third shade of red, Itar decided he'd better take the discussion from there. "Now, that's not exactly fair, Mr. Kaggle. We performed our duties as described to us. and we took the risks. Zalaster's arrival was probably the result of a fault in your own spy network, not something we did. Maybe you'd better have a good look at where you're getting your information. As for us, we did everything we could."

Kaggle stared at him blankly for an awkward moment. Then, snapping out of his reverie, he stood. "Of course," he smiled, "it's only fair! I'll have Greppa pay you on your way out.

"Now," he continued, "on to other matters. I've got Thalassian slavers due to pass through the Bodrin system in twelve hours. Now, I don't want their slaves, I just want their loot, and I don't want them getting a foothold in my sector. They've gotta be hit fast, and hard. Interested?"

Grakkata grunted, and Avery squirmed in his chair. "Boss Kaggle, you've gotta understand..."

"Greppa," the shrill little alien interrupted him, speaking into a desk-mounted comlink. "Bring in Grakkata's payment." The red-cloaked Devaronian appeared moments later, holding in his clawed hand ten slim, elegant coins. He wordlessly dropped them into the Wookiee woman's hairy paw, and was out the door in silence.

Boss Kaggle smiled at the four of them. "It's been a nice day, mostly! You've already made ten thousand... care for another eleven?"

Chapter 4

"Well, here we are," said Itar, stating the obvious.

"That's my home, down there," Avery told them, gazing out the cockpit fondly. "I hope these slavers weren't planning on landing." Grakkata growled loudly in reply, making it quite clear that she wasn't about to let any slavers ply their trade in her sector.

Time passed, wearing on the nerves of the Treespirit's occupants when, as they were beginning to wonder if they'd been had, Resh's sensors beeped for attention.

"Here we are..."

At this range, it took a few attempts by Resh to identify the craft... time enough for five more ships to appear alongside it.

"I don't like this..."

Everyone waited nervously while the sensor array studied the craft in the distance. Then, without fanfare, it told them: The Last Thing had returned, along with its five scoutships.

"Blast!" Avery shouted, "Kaggle, that scheming womp rat! I'll wring his neck when we get out of this!"

"We've got to get out of this, first!" Itar replied. "Grakkata, I'll steer us out of here, if you want to recompute a hyperjump..."

Before they could set to work, they were interrupted by a shout from Resh. "Wait!" the Gotal told them, "Five more ships have come in from the other side! Four zebra fighters and a Guardian Light Cruiser!"

"Can you identify them?" Avery asked, tension bleeding through his voice.

"Wait a second," Resh said, studying his readouts. "Here we are. The new vessels are: Kaggle the Quick, Kaggle the Merciless, Kaggle the Fierce, Kaggle the Crafty, and Mighty Kaggle, respectively."

On the bridge of the Mighty Kaggle, the spindly alien from whom the vessel had got its name leaped out of his chair, clapping his hands in delight.

"Hah!" he squealed, "At last, no more meddling small timers! Piracy in Elrood Sector is now my own exclusive enterprise!" Throwing his head back, he let loose with a triumphant cackle which lasted several moments, until he was distracted by two of his waiting goons, who looked at him blankly. Straightening his outfit, the Boss fixed them with an evil glare. 

"Well, laugh already!"

The two goons, already uncomfortable, did their best to indulge their boss.

"Uhhhh, huh-huh, huh-huh-huh..."

"Heh. Heh-heh. Heh-heh-heh..."

"That's it!" Avery yelled, flipping on switches in the gunnery chair. "Zalaster, Kaggle, I don't care - somebody's gonna feel my wrath today!" Already, the Treespirit was being beaten badly by The Last Thing's lasers. The Kaggle fighters had moved to intercept Dorok's scout ships, and the nine small craft buzzed around one another like some strange, space-borne feeding frenzy.

Avery swung the cannons around, and tore a ragged hole in a section of The Last Thing's hull. The other vessel returned the barrage in kind, and everyone shook from the assault.

"This is too dangerous!" Itar shouted. "Our shields can't withstand this!"

Avery called to their Wookiee captain, who sat in front of him. "Grakkata! Get me in with those fighters... I want to take a bite out of Kaggle!" The Wookiee complied, and dove the ship into the nest of starfighters. One of them was vaporized by Avery's cannon fire instantly, another pounded to pieces by shots from Dorok's scout ships.

"They're retreating!" Resh announced, watching the two Kaggle fighters bank for the safety of their command ship, and its sturdy fighter transport rack.

"Not if I can help it!" Avery swore, as Grakkata picked up on his intent and gave chase to the smaller fighters. With the Treespirit, The Last Thing, and five scout ships after them, the remaining fighters had plenty of reasons to flee. As Kaggle the Crafty successfully hooked itself to the larger vessels' fighter rack, Kaggle the Merciless was reduced to a cloud of smoking debris. The Mighty Kaggle peeled away at high speed, and vanished into hyperspace in moments.

"Okay, now it's time to go!" Itar shouted, as he tried to angle the deflector shield to protect them from the six remaining enemy vessels around them. Grakkata howled an affirmative, punching computations into the navicomputer. As their ship was rocked nearly to the point of destruction by enemy laser fire, it was tugged mightily out of the fray by its hyperdrives, and propelled back toward the frozen planet of Lanthrym.

"All right Kaggle, you've played us for the last time!"

Avery pointed rudely at the little crimelord, who sat hunched at his desk. Two guards chased Avery and his companions into the chamber, drawing blasters.

"We're sorry, sir. We tried to stop them getting in..." Grakkata raised a threatening limb toward the guards, who looked more than a little nervous.

"It's all right," Kaggle told them all. "I'm at fault here. You guys just sit down and I'll explain everything."

Resh took a chair, sitting on the extreme end of it as he jutted his face across the desk at the little crimelord. "You gave Zalaster the same tip you gave us. Dorok and Grakkata are the most successful pirates in the sector. You wanted us to wipe each other out, And sweep up the remains for yourself!"

Kaggle raised his hands in confusion. "I don't know what you're talking about! I was simply worried that Zalaster's band might appear one more time, so I went to lend whatever aid I could!"

"That's funny," Avery laughed, near shouting, "I didn't see you lending any aid when The Last Thing was tearing our ship a new cargo entrance!"

The little alien shivered in his chair. "P-please," he stuttered, "d-don't shout at me. It's... s-so unpleasant..."

"Unpleasant!" Resh stood, aghast. "How's this for unpleasant? Since you were on our side all along, I guess you won't mind paying us our eleven grand! That might just cover the repairs we're gonna need!" Itar leaned forward to make his own contribution to the verbal onslaught, then realized everything had been pretty much covered.

"Yeah!"

Boss Kaggle motioned to the two goons, who hovered in the doorway. "G-guards," he stammered, "go outside. I'll t-take it from here..."

Bewildered, Grakkata and her crew shot one another a surprised look as Boss Kaggle's sole protection marched obediently out of the office. The guards gone, Avery seized the opportunity. Putting one hand on his blaster, he leveled the little alien with a stern gaze. "Alright, Kaggle. You promised us eleven thousand, and we're not leaving 'til we've got it."

Their host shook nervously, raised two pleading hands to Itar and Resh. "P-please, do something about your f-friend. H-he's not r-rational..." In reply, the pair stood up, drawing their own weapons. Desperate, he looked to the giant Wookiee with big, frightened eyes.

"G-Grakkata, is that about how y-you feel about it?"

The Wookiee woman fixed him with a dead expression, and uttered one simple phrase: "Yahrr-grr, harmph!"

The little alien turned red in anger, and began shuddering violently. Shudders giving way to convulsions, Boss Kaggle began roaring in a voice far deeper and more savage than the others would have thought he was capable.

"Grakkata," Resh asked nervously, "what did you say to him?"

Before the Wookiee could answer, Kaggle howled, and gripped the edges of his desk as his little body was rocked with spasms. As they watched, the flesh of the tiny being stretched out, bent out of shape by bones elongating beneath the surface. Hair erupted from Kaggle's body in thick tufts, fingers thickening and giving birth to thick, ragged claws. In moments, the creature had become twice its normal size, and showed no sign of slowing down. The beast shrieked at them, pulling the top off its desk with its two great arms.

"Kill it!" Avery shouted, "Fire!" pulling his trigger, he was shocked to discover that nothing was emerging from his weapon's barrel. Looking around, he noticed his partners looking equally confused.

"Hey," Resh said, alarmed, "something's wrong, here!"

With a roar the great Kaggle-beast, now over three meters tall, crushed what remained of its desk under one hooven foot and leaped at them, clutching at the foursome with its giant, bone-crushing hands.

"Run!" Itar shouted, making his way across the length of the office to the door. He hammered on the control panel, to no avail. Furiously, he shouted to the others, "the door's not workin'!"

Avery and Grakkata, meanwhile, had chosen to see if they couldn't subdue the beast by more traditional means. Trying to get a grip on the monster's swinging arms, the pair were batted violently to one side, thrown into the long, high shelves that stood on either side of the long room.

Resh had other plans. spying a vent cover in the wall beside the door, he knelt down to try and get its cover off. Fueled by adrenaline and terror, the vent cover pulled away in his hands. Turning back toward the room, the Gotal was nearly paralyzed to see the Kaggle-beast charging his way, nostrils steaming. Standing, he hurled the vent cover into the face of the roaring beast, bouncing it off its forehead. As the monster roared in rage, Resh dived into the skinny vent shaft, squeezing himself as far as he could go, and hoping that his feet weren't still sticking out the other end. 

With the monster's back to them, Avery and Grakkata were left with one precious moment to figure out what to do. Abandoning any hopes for a heroic victory, the pair dragged themselves, bruised and bleeding, into one of the standing closets built into the shelves. Slamming the door behind them, Avery just had time to hope everyone had reached safety when he lapsed into unconsciousness.

Itar was just on his way to that safety when the beast spotted him, halfway up the shelf on one wall, clinging for dear life and trying to get as high up as he could. Meat-rending claws slashing the air around his feet, he pulled himself the rest of the way to the ceiling. There was nothing much to hold onto here, however, and Itar was forced to look for another option. There, hanging placidly in the centre of the room, was Kaggle's ornate chandelier, a fair distance above the monster's head. Hands slipping on the dusty shelf, Itar turned himself around, and leaped with all his might.

Catching onto the bottom-most branches of the hanging ornament, Itar sent the chandelier swinging wildly, dropping jewels onto the Kaggle-monster in a downpour. The horned beast roared in anger, trying madly to get at him. Its great hunchback, however, prevented the beast from getting its arms over its head. The giant hairy brute tried to jump, leaning back at the same time to get its arms in front of it, but only fell onto its back with a thundering crash.

As Itar hung there,  hoping the chandelier would continue to carry him, the enraged Kaggle-beast set about tearing its palatial office to shambles.

Much later, the crew of the Treespirit strode together down one of the dirty streets of Capital City. It was raining again, the recycled water collecting in great pools around them.

"Well, there's something you don't see every day," sighed Avery, half his face sporting a bright white bandage. He'd been slashed up pretty badly by the Kaggle-thing's rending claws, and sounded as though he might be looking forward to a long, quiet sleep.

"Suits me," Itar replied, "once was enough! Still, I'm pretty happy with the way things turned out, considering..."

"Yeah," Resh admitted. "He won't be messing with us anymore, and promised to start fixing us up with the real work."

"We've got all the benefits and connections, without us actually having to work for the guy," Avery added. "Still, I would have liked to get that extra eleven thousand..."

"Yeah," Resh said again.

"I don't know," replied Itar, "there's something about being nearly diced by a rampaging monster that kind of makes all of that seem like a small thing. I'm still thanking the stars that that chandelier held out for me!" Grakkata laughed despite herself, a deep, booming chortle that sounded in equal parts amused and exhausted. The group turned at an intersection, starting down another street when there, in front of them, was revealed a mobile food cart in front of which stood an all-too familiar bearded fat man, and a couple of his grimy pals.

Frema Deb laughed in surprised delight at the sight of the weary pedestrians, and strode forward carrying his lunch in one hand. "Well, well," he beamed, taunting them through a mouthful of krill dog, "I haven't seen you lot in a while! Out looking for ground-based employment, huh? I guess the spacer's life is just too much for ya!" Holding his round belly, Deb closed his eyes as he was overcome with bellowing laughter.

His mirth was cut short, however, by an angry fist slamming into his nose. The unconscious spacer fell backward into the gutter with a splash, his half-eaten krill dog sinking beside him into the dirty water.

"Ouch," Itar said, rubbing his bruised knuckles as Frema Deb's two underlings busied themselves trying to lift their portly captain out of the mud puddle. Without so much as a backward glance, Itar, Avery, Resh and Grakkata wandered off into the rain, in the direction of their waiting starship...