"One at a time, dammit," Gannon had said to the assorted pirates, smugglers, and other unsavory characters that had crowded around his stool at the bar counter. Gannon, his brow furrowed, held his hands out as if to shield himself from the bombardment of protests, explanations and excuses—some of them anxious, some of them angry, all of them indignant. Roon was at it's wit's end. "And give me some space here," he said, "If I spill my beer I won't be happy." That, and he didn't like being pinned with his back to the bar. These people were his peers, true, but that didn't mean he trusted them. Many commodities could be found on Roon, but trust was scarce.

The others quieted down and stood back. "We're not happy, Milo," rumbled a Weequay that Gannon recognized as Thesh, a good humored colleague of his whose voice, on this occasion, was anything but. His face, too, seemed even more wrinkled than usual. He glanced about the others as he went on. "That dopa maskey Hejin is trying to shove us out," he said, disgusted, "He needs to know that this isn't his world, it's our world, and he can't throw his weight around here as he damn well pleases." There was a murmur of agreement.

Gannon shrugged, and reached for his beer on the counter behind him. "Why don't you talk to Grif?" he suggested.

"Grif is dead."

"He's dead?" Gannon repeated, holding his beer tentatively before him as he spared a glance at Ransom, seated beside him. Grif was the reason the Desdemona had come to Roon, having hired Gannon and his crew to deliver some goods for him. They had the goods, but if Grif was dead he wasn't about to pay for them. Gannon took a swig of his beer, suddenly feeling as though he needed it. He swallowed and cleared his throat. "Who did it?" he asked.

"Who knows?" Thesh said with a frustrated shrug, "His insides disintegrated. No one knows how or why, but it happened around the same time Hejin showed up. The point is," the Weequay glanced around the others again, "we're taking matters into our own hands now." Another murmur of agreement, with nodding heads all around. "We've put together a fleet to send a message to Hejin. Everyone's in on it—the BloodScars, the Dreads, the Cavrilhu pirates, the Ghilron pirates, even some Thalassians. Milo, we have the Mersons with us. Like I said, everyone from here to the Core is in on it. Roon belongs to all of us."

"Hejin probably has someone in the bar, you know," Gannon cautioned him.

"I don't care if that sleemo knows," Thesh said, undeterred, raising his voice so the entire room could hear. "We know that he's moving in a convoy of bulk freighters today, and we're going to hit it to show that working with him doesn't mean you'll be safe, it means you'll be hit. Everything is ready to go."

"So what do you want from me?" Gannon glanced about them, "It sounds like you have things in hand."

"I know you, Milo," Thesh said, "They might call you 'Loose Gannon,' but you're not. We're good with turbolasers, and you're good with words." The Weequay noticed that Gannon raised his eyebrow, and hastened to add, "Well, you're good with turbolasers too, but also words." Gannon nodded his approval, and Thesh went on. "Milo, we need you to talk to Hejin, give him one chance to clear out of here and let him know what's coming to him if he doesn't." So, no one in Thesh's mighty pirate armada wanted to risk their ships on this crusade. Figured. It was about the money, after all—Hejin was cutting into their profits, perhaps, but nothing cut into profits more than having to repair or replace a ship.

Gannon, for his part, had a reputation as a fair broker who didn't take sides. It stood to reason that tensions would run high in Thesh's armada, since it consisted of many pirate factions who would never ordinarily trust each other. Hejin really must have been throwing his weight around to get them to work together. But the point was that it made sense for Gannon to speak for the group, especially since he himself was not unlike Hejin—a practical, dispassionate man. He could probably reason with him. But still, he was reluctant. With Grif dead, he was more inclined to cut his losses and leave Roon altogether. But with Grif dead, he needed money. He stroked his beard as a thought occurred to him.

"What's in those bulk cruisers that Hejin is moving in here?"

"Whatever it is," Thesh said, anticipating him, "You'll get a share of it."

"Ten percent."

The Weequay winced, insofar as it was possible to tell on a face like his. "Five percent," he countered. "Let's be reasonable here, Milo. There's a lot of people who need to be paid for this, and ten percent is a lot of money just to talk."

"Ten," Gannon said again, "And if it comes to a fight, you can count the Desdemona in."

"Fine."

Gannon and Ransom had returned to the Desdemona, and, later, sat serenely in orbit over Roon as Neese, the ship's Dug pilot, worked on opening a channel to the Ebon Fist. In the distance, Gannon could see Hejin's ships escorting the bulk cruisers. It was then that Netan and his Lucian Alliance showed up and announced themselves with a broadwave transmission. Thesh, from the bridge the Bloodlust, his modified Tartan-class patrol cruiser, was livid. Gannon was too—the Lucian Alliance weren't profiteers, because they weren't in it for profit. Netan had given all pirates a bad name (a worse name than usual, anyway) with his campaign of terrorism against the New Republic.

No one on Roon liked the New Rep, of course, but that's why they were on Roon. It was a place where the Republic wasn't. Well, sort of. It did have a government, but it was a government of, by, and for the pirates. Beings like Grif and now, apparently, Thesh were the real power here—their ships protected the planet and delivered needed supplies, and in return the government looked the other way on their questionable activities, as it would today. It was a comfortable arrangement. The word was out, however, that the New Rep had an entire fleet chasing down the Lucian Alliance, and where Netan went, that fleet wouldn't be far behind. No one on Roon, not the government, the people, or the smugglers and pirates, wanted the Republic's attention drawn here. The Lucian Alliance was most definitely not welcome. Gannon cleared his throat and was about to say so when, astoundingly, Lim Hejin came on the line with a warm welcome to Netan. Gannon's throat tightened with rage. Who in the nine hells did he think he was?

"We move now!" Thesh rumbled over another frequency, patched in to the Desdemona. There was some interference on the channel as the Bloodlust and the rest of Thesh's armada had assembled some distance away, outside the system—fortunately on the opposite side from the Lucian Alliance. "Death to Hejin, and to Netan!" the Weequay snarled.

"Wait," Gannon said, "I'll handle this." He heard Thesh begin to protest, but switched the channel to Netan and Hejin's broadwave and interrupted their conversation. Why not bring a shuttle over, Hejin had asked. Gannon could think of too many reasons to count. "Why don't you not?" he began...

Still, it was worth a try. The Lucian Alliance was, after all, the greater threat to Roon. Netan didn't want to fight them, he said, but his very presence here was a threat. "Neese, raise Thesh again," Gannon said.

"I can't," the Dug said, anxiously, "He must be in hyperspace."

Oh, no. Gannon looked out the bridge viewport just in time to see Thesh's armada appear from hyperspace on the far side of Hejin and his bulk cruisers—pinning them between the armada and the Lucian Alliance. They appeared in grand fashion, too, having dropped out all at once in a broad formation that exaggerated their size. But no exaggeration was needed, Gannon noted to himself as he made a mental tally of the ships; three freighters and five cruisers of various make and model, with a couple dozen Uglies and beaten up Cloakshapes flying point defense. Poor Hejin had apparently ruffled more feathers than Ponc Gavrisom had on his entire body.

Thesh's voice was full of fire as it bellowed over the comm. "All ships, attack!" he said, "Kauron, Zothip's Fist, snag the bulk cruisers. Breaker, swing around the back of their formation. Everyone else, on my wing. We'll hold them here, tear them up, and then take the fight to Netan!" It occurred to Gannon, then, that Bloodlust was the appropriate name for Thesh's ship—indeed, it was all he heard in the voices of the other pirates as they shouted war cries over the channel. Gannon had a feeling that he wouldn't do much good here, but it was worth a try.

"Bloodlust, this is Desdemona," he said, once Neese nodded to him that they were on the same channel. "Thesh, Netan is the larger threat. Hit him first. I'm reading that Hejin is painting targeting solutions on Netan's ships. With our combined firepower, Netan won't stand a chance. We can split the bou—"

"Keepuna!" Thesh cursed, "Hejin and Netan are probably working together. If we go after Netan first, Hejin will shoot our engines out behind us. No," Gannon could imagine the Weequay shaking his scaley head, "All ships, stay on course. Hejin is our target. He's the one who's putting us out of business on our own planet! Yes, our planet! Roon doesn't belong to Lim Hejin, it belongs to m.. er, to us!"

Subtle, Gannon thought to himself sardonically. He had never believed that Thesh's motives were quite as high minded as he made them sound. Grif had been the power broker on Roon, and, now that he was dead, Thesh must have been looking to fill the vaccuum. To be fair, Thesh was indeed right about Hejin, but it just so happened that he was also Thesh's largest potential rival for control of Roon. So Thesh had played the populist and put together this armada of his, not only to make sure Hejin didn't get any ideas, but to demonstrate to Roon, its pirates and smugglers, and its government that he was in charge.

So, Thesh wasn't going to stop until Hejin was destroyed. Gannon sighed, and glanced at the sensors display where Neese had gotten a read on Netan's ships. He did some math in his head; two Marauders, thirty two turbolasers, six tractor beams. No, the Desdemona could take one of the Marauders, easy, but not both of them. And with Thesh's armada quickly closing in on Hejin's ships, the man would have to break off his attack on Netan and defend himself instead.

Gannon distantly heard Ransom ask where he should be. He gazed out the viewport for a moment longer, then glanced at Ransom and shrugged. "Put some men together," he said, "We have to make sure we get our ten percent." His boots clanked on the durasteel deck as he strode to Neese's chair and rested one hand on the back of it as he reached for an overhead panel and retrieved a handheld comm. "Okay Neese," he said, "Take us around starboard of Hejin's formation, in firing distance."

"Going in hot and heavy, Captain."

Gannon raised his eyebrow. Neese was fond of double entendre, but Gannon simply nodded and clicked on the comm handset. "Okay, ladies and gentlemen," he said, his voice echoing over the ship's speakers, "Get yourself to a battlestation or else strap yourself in. Port turbolasers, be ready to fire on my mark." He clicked off the handset and glanced at the shield operator. "And double up our shields to port," he added.

Thesh's armada
■ Adz-class patrol destroyer Breaker
■ Discril-class attack cruiser Disincentive
■ Kaloth-class battlecruiser Zothip's Fist
■ Kaloth-class battlecruiser Kauron
■ Tartan-class patrol cruiser Bloodlust (modified, dual light turbolaser)
■ TL-1200 transport Grihm'tok (modified, see Wookieepedia)
■ YV-929 armed freighter Windfall
■ YV-929 armed freighter Dinty Moore
■ "TYE-wing" starfighters (2)
■ "Y-TIE" starfighters (10)
■ "Z'ceptor" starfighters (3)
■ Cloakshape starfighters (11)

"Yeah, but he's right," Neese said from the helm, "See Thesh moving his ships in close quarters? This one is going to be hot."

"We'll just harass the flank then," Gannon said, crossing his arms over his chest as he nodded out the viewport, "This isn't really our fight anyway, and I'd just as soon save our fuel, missiles and chaff for when Netan makes his move."

"Speak of the Stenax," Neese said, "Looks like we're getting a transmission from him too."

"My, aren't we popular today? Put it through, and then I'll handle the comm. Just focus on flying." Gannon had to listen to Netan's transmission twice to hear it over the rumbling of the Desdemona's turbolasers as they opened up on the bulk freighters in the distance. Incredulous, he considered listening to it a third time until he decided that he had, in fact, heard Netan correctly—the man was attempting some accord with the pirates even after their unceremonious repudiation of him. This time, it was for revenge on the Ebon Fist. Apparently Netan had put together that Hejin had played him like a Hapan lute. Gannon wasn't sympathetic, especially not when he heard Netan's veiled threat. Veiled, and empty.

"We don't need your 'help,'" Gannon replied, the agitation apparent in his voice, "In fact, every minute you sit on your hands out there is another minute someone on Roon is going to see you and bring a Mon Cal cruiser down on us. Kindly get out. We'll handle this alone, thanks."

Netan had miscalculated if he thought any of these pirates would be willing to join what they considered to be his crackpot crusade against the Republic. Sure, they had no love for the Republic, but rather for money. The fact was that the Republic, like any galactic government, cast a wide shadow—and there was a lot of money to be found in that shadow. There was no money in attacking the Republic directly, especially now that even the Remnant wasn't hiring privateers to do it anymore. That's why they would be so protective of Roon; it was a safe haven for pirates and smugglers deep in the Republic's shadow, and the last thing they wanted was the Republic shining a searchlight in this direction.

Meanwhile, the battle raged in earnest. The Bloodlust was too fast for Hejin's sluggish bulk cruiser. The Fat Boy was still turning ponderously to face the approaching Tartan-class patrol cruiser when it shot past it, its dual light turbolaser hammering away at the bulk cruiser's shields at point blank range while its formidable array of laser cannons blasted through the fighters that were still forming up around the ship, like a breeze through sand. The other ships that Thesh had ordered to follow him—the Disincentive, the Grihm'tok, and the two YV-929's Windfall and Dinty Moore—were close behind him, bringing their much heavier firepower to bear the beleagured bulk cruiser. Its shields would take a serious pummelling in this first pass, and its attempt at a Loran Spitball would be complicated by the fact that Thesh's ships were buzzing around and around it at close range; too close to paint the firing solution that Hejin needed and also too close for his other ships, behind them, to fire accurately without hitting the Fat Boy.

There was an orgasmic snarl from Thesh on the comm channel as the Bloodlust, now well behind the bulk cruiser on Gannon's side of the fight, began a wide arc that would eventually bring it around the bulk freighters (using them as cover) for another pass. "Windfall, Dinty Moore, break off and harass the gunship at close range. Focus your fire on its guns. The rest of you, stay on the Fat Boy—I want it demolished."

"What about these ships catching up behind us?" a Rodian voice asked.

"Have the fighters harass them," Thesh ordered, "But from a distance. I don't like the look of the blisters on that PLY. Hit the Mynock-class first, they're sluggish and it should pull the other ships back to defend it. Watch those fighters of theirs though," Thesh cautioned, "I haven't seen them before." There was a chorus of affirmatives and war cries over the comm, and Thesh noted on his sensors the Uglies and Cloakshapes breaking off from the main battle in two, wide arcs that would eventally close in behind the Mynock-class cruiser and its accompanying ships. Then Thesh noticed the Desdemona as his cruiser shot past it, close enough to set off the proximity alarm. "Keelya afda skocha punchee," he said, "I see you're making yourself useful back there, Milo."

In fact, Gannon wasn't. He was hitting the bulk freighters, yes, but the Kaloth battlecruisers already had them tractored in place and were whittling down their shields with their combined 8 turbolaser batteries and 8 laser cannons (it should be noted, also, that these Kaloths had been equipped with particle shielding unlike most of their brethren of the same class—flying a ship without particle shielding was insane, even for the Cavrilhu pirates). The Breaker was now in place behind the freighters too, firing its quad laser and ion cannon batteries into their engine blocks. Of all the ships in this skirmish, the freighters were faring the worst.

"We're the straw that breaks the eopie's back," Gannon replied, not very convincingly. "Besides, it seems like you have things in hand."

Thesh simply chuckled as the Bloodlust disappeared around one of the bulk freighters and readied itself for another pass.

"Captain," Neese said sharply, with surprise in his voice. Gannon raised an eyebrow as he glanced at him. "We just got a read on that PLY," the Dug went on, "It's registered to Drasek Cale. The Drasek Cale."