The Banedog's Backyard was a sprawling mass of steel and neon in the uncharted reaches of the Sol System. Once a thriving hub for trade and diplomacy under UGTR, the station had long since fallen into the hands of outlaws and pirates. Its corridors echoed with the hum of malfunctioning machinery and the distant roars of illicit activities. The neon lights that flickered sporadically cast an eerie glow on the dilapidated walls, creating a haunting atmosphere that unsettled even the bravest of souls.

The station's inhabitants, a motley crew of criminals, gangs, and cartels, had carved out territories within the labyrinthine structure. These territories were constantly in flux, with gang wars and betrayals redrawing the lines of control on an almost daily basis. The air was thick with tension and the ever-present threat of violence, making survival a matter of cunning and ruthlessness.

The Banedog's Backyard was a place where only the strong and the cunning thrived. The weak were quickly swallowed by the chaos, their screams lost in the cacophony of the station's daily life. It was a place where trust was a rare and precious commodity, and alliances were as fragile as the flickering lights that lined the corridors.

And the place where he knew he could find the most fun.

Ubel left the premises of their docking area and was met with a crowd of people who were curious to see the people who landed. They were all waiting just outside the high metal fence that separates the docking area from the Commune Hub. Then as if all hell broke loose, the people started yelling their trades at Ubel and his crew as soon as they exited the metal gate.

“Hey! Do you have goods to sell? I will take it!”

“Our firm gives good nighttime services for you and your tired men.”

“You’re pirates, right? Do you have a vacancy? I want to join!”

“I have new stocks of warheads and shells! Perfect for taking out the personnel on ships!”

“Do you still recruit people?”

“Food! Do you need quality and cheap food for your next journey? I’ll take you to our company! We provide discounts for bulk orders!”

“Latest Colonial and Terran small arms have just arrived! Perfect for your self-defense!”

“We accept stolen goods and cargo for 80 percent of the market price!”

“Get our insurance! Lost ships and cargo will be answered by our company with just sig-”

Ubel had to walk slowly as he gently pushed away the different marketing attempts as he passed by. He smiled, remembering the day when he started back in the game when he would also do the same in the game, selling his service and skill as a smuggler before rising as one of the most powerful and influential shipping magnates on the galactic board.

He turned his gaze around as he enjoyed the new sights of a crowded civilization amidst the chaotic air of the cityscape. A familiar feeling that he could still refresh from his memories. Even if it was when he visited this place behind a monitor, the first encounters and the enjoyment he gained with his friends while staying on this station were still new, and felt like it just happened yesterday.

It seemed that the only thing that changed in his absence of 10 years was the increased number of people who would always block their way from and to the docking bay. Other than that, it was still the same old outlaw station he always remembered. Along with the good fun moments with his friends who would play with him.

If only he could bring them here, they would probably be ecstatic like him. Meeting personally the Non-Player Characters that they could only interact with a mouse and keyboard was an inexplicable feeling. It's like he was meeting the famed and legendary characters in a story. He was taken back to his new reality when a rushing trader hit him, he realized that it was with no ill intent as the man was blinded by the crates he was carrying. He immediately received an apology as the man continued on his way.

He turned to look behind him and saw his companions who were following behind had better ways of handling the crowd as they just simply aimed their guns at the bustling people who gave them a space to pass through. Especially when they were also escorting a large number of captured personnel which was their priority to be disposed in the market.

Ubel then inserted himself in the digital system of the station and asked for a digital copy of Banedog’s Backyard map.

“Now, let's see… oh, that’s impressive!” Ubel exclaimed.

“What?” Bastille asked.

“This station was now connected to the BLACNET,” Ubel explained. “It seems that Banedog’s Backyard is upgrading. The last time I went here, this station was still using the OLDNET”

“BLACNET? OLDNET?” Mei asked.

“Beyond Lightspeed Access & Communication Network or BLACNET. Original Legacy Digital Network or OLDNET.” Orphel interjected.

“What’s the difference?” Mei asked again.

“Are you kidding me?” Ubel was speechless at Mei’s ignorance. He looked at others and it seemed she was not alone only Orphel and Bastille seemed to know about Sol’s internet version of Pitch Black Void.

“Please do give them some chance commander. Most of the crew don’t know much about the BLACNET. Munda suppressed the use of such service or its existence among the crew for the fleet’s safety… to avoid being tracked.” Orphel explained. “I’m sure you already have an idea of the status of our fleet’s digital security.”

“Yeah, that’s how I easily hijacked your droids and drones. What the hell? I am rescinding Munda’s measure. Have the entire crew connect to the BLACNET. Bastille, teach all of them how to use it. You don’t have to worry about digital security. I will handle it.”

“Aye commander.”

“I’ll buy the net service later. Teach them everything on what to do and what not to do.” Ubel said.

“BLACNET is the giant web of online resources like connected supercomputers, websites, and devices across the galaxy, or shall we say, under the control of UGTR. The Alliance uses another version of the BLACNET. While OLDNET is the first and oldest version of BLACNET. It’s like the original network but was now outdated due to security reasons.” Orphel told Mei.

“Ooooohhhhh! Neat!” Mei and others nodded. Although all of them could see that she didn’t understand a thing from what was told to her.

Ubel just shook his head to take his mind off the new disappointment he had over his new crew and continued with his previous business.

In seconds, he registered and was provided with a detailed 3D model of the station. It was truly still the same with newly added structures on top of each other. With some new names on the former establishments that he visited.

Then he searched for the nearest slave pens in the docking bay and asked to be led. The map accepted his request and, in his eyes, an arrow popped up to direct him towards his target destination.

The connection of this station to the BLACNET made it easier for him to find some information he needed. It truly eases his access to the station’s system. He could still remember when BLACNET was a great source of information and a quick way for players who focused on Neuromancy builds like Ubel, to make a quick profit on every new start of their games.

But somehow, this station strangely had a restricted connection. And Ubel couldn’t penetrate through due to its close-loop link. It confirmed that there were high privileges in this station under the BLACNET but it was only restricted to a few users or hosts in this station. Ubel realized that he may have to find one of the hubs later.

Putting such thoughts away for a while, he glanced at the map that was displayed on the lower right of his vision. He followed the guidance system that would lead him to the slave pens as it was just a walking distance away from the Commune Hub. His crew followed, dragging their captured prisoners behind them in chains.

On the way, the massive crowds of people would occasionally slow them down. Especially when the way to their destination was riddled with disorganized and open kitchens with disgusting rotting garbage, makeshift tents of the homeless, dead or drunk groups of outlaws, trash heaps, and burning waste materials which forced them to make detours several times.

He also noticed the prying eyes on top of the buildings and the flying drones that he detected, flying above them while subtly following them wherever they went. He grinned as he was excited to see what kind of encounters he would get from this station.

“Same old things huh, old friend,” he muttered under his breath.

As he followed the directions, he ran across a dozen hoodlums who appeared as he turned in a corner. They were armed with metal pipes and something that Ubel could assume as homemade pipe rifles. Not strange for such an age where anyone could just print their weapons at home.

“Well, speak of the devil.” Ubel grinned.

“You have a problem kid? It seems you are quite lost. Did your momma leave you or something? Hahaha!” one of them mocked and laughed at his joke which also made Ubel laugh with them.

Then right on cue, his companions arrived as they also turned to this alley. They noticed that their commander was surrounded by hoodlums and immediately aimed their weapons at the thugs. Showing that they would not hesitate to eliminate those who hindered them.

“Hey hey! Just chill! Is this the son of your boss or something?” one of the hoodlums tried to freeze down the heating situation after he saw the armed followers of Ubel. “We’re just joking…what the hell.”

They quickly moved out of the way as they retreated to where they came from, disappearing in the alleys that led them to the lower levels.

“Nice timing. Anyways, let's continue.” Ubel grinned as he led the way again to their destination.

They arrived at an open space where it was near a large body of water where ships and barges were docked. It seemed that this station also had built-in bodies of water as Ubel couldn’t see the end of it as he scanned the horizon, finally appreciating the size of the station they were in.

Then he also noticed that people were fishing on the docks. He came towards them and asked curiously.

“Can you even catch one here?” Ubel doesn’t remember this part of the station having any bodies of water on his last visit. The station probably added this as a module.

“We could. Mutated ratfish and leechcoils are quite good and healthy in these waters.” the fisherman replied.

Hearing his statement, Ubel gazed around him again, reminding himself what this body of water was contaminated with. Not wanting to spoil the enjoyment of the fisherman, Ubel just nodded thankfully for the answer and went back to his task of selling his captured prisoners.

The slave pens were exactly what he expected.

Just a short distance from the Banedog's Backyard lay the Black Market, a sprawling bazaar where anything and everything could be bought and sold. Making it obvious to anyone what kind of station this was. The market was a maze of narrow alleys and cramped stalls, each one manned by a vendor as shady as the next. Here, the line between friend and foe was blurred, and every transaction was a gamble.

Holographic displays advertised a variety of illicit goods, from black-market cybernetic enhancements they had salvaged from unsuspecting victims to stolen ship parts from scuttled vessels. The air was thick with the smell of exotic spices and the metallic tang of ozone, a byproduct of the countless illegal energy and ballistic weapons for sale. Traders barked their wares in a dozen different languages, their voices blending into a chaotic symphony that was the lifeblood of the market.

In the shadows, outlaws and criminals whispered to one another, exchanging information and plotting their next moves. Every corner of the market held a secret, and every secret had a price. The market was a microcosm of the Banedog's Backyard itself—a place where the desperate and the dangerous came to find their fortunes or meet their doom.

It also had that very distinct, bad combination of smell from blood, piss, shit, garbage, and rotting corpses. Fortunately, they brought masks to protect their nose from the disgusting smell.

But those people that were being forcibly dragged along with them can’t say the same. The prisoners behind them who were not just forced to follow them into their dark fate but also restrained on both hands, couldn’t even cover their noses and had to breathe through their silenced mouths.

As Ubel entered the dimly lit establishment of the slavers, the air was thick with the scent of sweat, rotting meat, and desperation. On the cages, he saw men women, and even children in rags and chains. Mostly in malnourished states, you would think they are living skeletons already. But strangely enough, Ubel felt nothing.

He stopped walking for a second as he felt the time slowed around him. He realized that he had changed, unknowingly and unconsciously. Then he remembered his former self, Kiryu.

Would he still think the same if he saw these people?

Then he found his answer as Kiryu appeared in front of him and smiled, with a smoking cigarette on his lips.

Both have the same answer.

And at the same time, both said the same thing.

“Nah... It's all part of the great game. But we aren’t pawns, we are players.”

Then he felt someone waking him up back to reality.

“Commander.” Eris shook his shoulder and he found his way back. “Is something wrong?”

He shook his head.

“Nothing.” He assured her with a smile, leading them again as they avoided the crowd and checked each of the slavemasters as they passed.

He continued his way through the crowded road where other slavers and traders were walking by, exchanging credits for slaves and vice versa. He and his companions walked by, ignoring the pitiful pleas and painful moans of those chained and bound in cages lining the walls. Although they were inside the station and were at the furthest place from the Sun, it still felt hot as the artificial sunlight of the station brought down heat to their skin.

“If this was a light novel, I would probably be promoting the freedom of slaves or buying them all out,” Ubel smirked at such a notion. “Collecting little girls and creating a harem of waifus that were former slaves… a what-if scenario, maybe?”

“Commander?” Eris got confused as she heard him talking to himself again.

“Nothing, by the way, Eris… what do you think of them?” Ubel asked, gesturing upon the imprisoned slaves in the cages and chains. She turned and saw things woman and man, too weak to move, waiting for death or a master.

“Pitiful... but weak and useless. A waste of breathable air,” she muttered in disgust. “We pay for our air and they don’t.”

“But what would you do if one of them were stronger than you, but they were just too weak to fight or display their great skills because they were never given something to nourish themselves?” Ubel asked again.

“Then they should blame their parents or a divine being for bringing them into this world without letting them know how to make themselves strong enough to avoid such fate,” Eris argued. “If I was in their situation, I would fight to the death. A quick death is much preferable than a life of suffering.”

She spat on the ground.

“What does that make you then? You’re bound to me. By the toxin that I injected upon all of you.” he tried to test her.

“Don’t misunderstand our choice, commander. Some of us may have been forced to kneel to your overwhelming might. But there are some of us also, who see only an advantage of working under you. And that is not being bound to you, it's a mutual contract between us.”

“I never made or signed any agreement between us though?”

“You did when you took the role from Munda. A deal where I would kill you if I think you’re not keeping your end of the bargain… even if I will die trying.” Eris said with hostile eyes, a sharp contrast from her usual smiling face that he would always see from her. “And few of us think this way.”

“A wolf pack huh.” He glanced behind them, obviously knowing that his companions had heard Eris’ statements. Then he received a confirmation with a shrug from each of them.

“Nice.” Ubel smiled and teased. “Finally, something to keep me up every night.”

Eris frowned upon hearing his delighted statement.

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“By the way, how much do you always earn in each plunder? Let’s say with this amount of captured personnel?” Ubel asked.

They all thought for a second before one of them answered.

“Probably a million at most?” Mei replied after trying to judge the value of the prisoners.

“I think they’re gonna be valued at 1.2 million. They are UGTR personnel.” Eris chimed in, adding her own opinion.

“No, probably less than that,” Bastille interjected, shaking his head. “This lot is probably worth 600,000 credits under Tuteya’s eyes.”

“Tuteya?” Ubel raised his brow upon hearing that name.

“You know her commander?” Bastille asked.

“Nope. Who is she?” Ubel inquired.

“She’s the trader that Munda would always meet to sell our goods. We would trade our plunder with other traders but most of the time, it’s her and her fleet.” Bastille answered. “Last time, we sold her about one hundred and seventy-six prisoners in one trade and they were all valued at just about 1.3 million credits. So these peeps would probably be worth less.”

Ubel blinked in shock upon hearing their statement. He pinched the bridge of his nose to stop the incoming headache. Then he asked again.

“Seriously?”

His party members just nodded, confirming the absurdity in his eyes.

“Boss Munda would always sell it at the same price as most traders,” Eris answered. “I was present on every trade he made so I know.”

“Yeah, me too,” Bastille added.

“Wait, you already had this amount of captured personnel in the past and was sold to her? To Tuteya?” Ubel asked.

“Yes,” Eris answered. “I think it was at that time when we raided a colony right?”

“Yeah, it was a gold mine for us at that time, due to how that colony was just a bunch of peace-loving activists that were leading a movement. Which… if I remember correctly, was about how outlaws would just leave them alone if there are no guards or navy on their moon colony.” Linus said.

“Ah! Those retarded colonists! I remember! They had no weapons because they believe weapons… bring about the evil of humanity or something like that.” Mei said.

“Yeah, in reality, they were only left alone before our raid due to how remote that place was. It was only thanks to one of their resupply ships that we coincidentally captured, that enabled us to find that moon.” Bastille laughed.

“Such stupid people.” Mei inserted.

“Well, you shouldn’t underestimate the idiocy of a group of people who were trapped in their delusions.” Ubel quickly remembered the same activists that he would encounter or see as Kiryu.

He could still remember back in Kiryu’s world how some people would organize movements to stop wars in Africa or Asia, stopping the use of fossil fuels, stopping discrimination racism, and inequality. Only for these same self-righteous movements to cause anarchy and disorder in their society which ironically, would become the very people they were fighting against.

“A terrible but funny irony in humanity.” Ubel laughed. “Still, it feels good that humanity still hasn’t changed despite reaching the space age. It still feels like my old homeworld.”

“Homeworld?” Marus caught his last word and asked curiously. “By the way, where did you come from bo-I mean commander?”

Ubel mused for a moment before answering with a wide grin.

“A very fun world.”

“Fun?” His crew then started thinking if he came from a pleasure world.

“Yep, it can be described with that one word,” Ubel said, then he realized something and asked himself. “Wait, why did I give up on that world then if it’s fun?”

Their commander held his chin in deep thought as if trying to find the reason for his question. But they were far more interested in his first statement.

“What word, commander?” Bastille asked.

His companions were interested in knowing where he came from and anticipated his answer. Ubel then turned towards them and made a delighted smile.

“Idiocracy.”

They all stopped and showed confused faces as if trying to comprehend his words.

“Sometimes I think that you’re either crazy or broken, commander.” Eris just scoffed and silently pulled their prisoners behind her.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I don’t know aside from a hunch, but maybe I’ll tell you more about it as we get to know more about you.” Eris then continued leading dragging their prisoners behind them.

“Heh.” Ubel just grinned at her.

They walked in the crowded street until they approached one of the slave pens that had just finished its trade with a client. The counter had a very fat and sloppy slavemasters, sitting on his floating chair, berating his henchmen to start whipping the new slaves they had.

He had a bald head with obvious skin disease, either from working in this polluted and contaminated environment or from making skin contact with his diseased slaves. In any case, he was a potential buyer in Ubel’s eyes. What made him different was how Ubel noticed that, unlike other buyers they passed by, this fat man seemed to be more well-versed in recognizing the worth of his current human plunder.

Ubel cleared his throat to announce his presence. The slaver turned to face him, his expression a mix of irritation and curiosity.

"What do you want?" he snapped, his tone harsh and commanding.

Ubel met his gaze with a calm demeanor, unfazed by the slaver's abrasive attitude.

"I have a proposition for you," he began, his voice steady and confident.

The slaver arched an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself.

"Go on," he replied, his interest piqued.

"I have a group of captives that I'm looking to sell," Ubel explained, gesturing to the group of people that were chained together, standing behind him and surrounded by his companions. "They were the crew of the three freighters that my group recently captured. Members of a trading fleet.”

The slaver's eyes widened in surprise, a hint of excitement flickering in his gaze.

"Experienced sailors, you say?" he mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "That could be quite valuable indeed for those who need a crew in the slave vessels and salvaging fleets."

Ubel nodded; his expression serious.

"Indeed. They have knowledge and skills that could prove useful to the right buyer."

The slavemaster’s floating chair went around the counter and flew in the circle of the slaves, sniffing and touching their skin and head. Ubel wondered how the slavemaster could even breathe normally in this awful atmosphere even if he wore a mask filter. Then after the slavemaster meticulously inspected each captive, he scanned their bodies for any signs of disease or cybernetic enhancements.

And as seen with how he reacted with his eyes in seeing the implants, Ubel’s thoughts about this man were confirmed.

Ubel observed the proceedings with a mix of impatience and anticipation. He knew that the slavemaster's assessment would determine the value of his captives and ultimately the success of his transaction.

After what felt like an eternity, the slavemaster finally completed his inspection and turned to face Ubel with a calculating expression.

"I'll offer you 7 million credits for the lot," he declared, his tone brusque.

Ubel’s companions’ eyes went wide after hearing the offer. It was several times the price they were always offered by the passing traders that they used to deal with, who usually bought their plunder in bulk.

However, their new commander had other things in his mind to consider. Ubel's lips curled into a slight smirk as he shook his head.

“10 million.”

“Hahahahaha! Nice joke kid. 7 million.”

"That won't do," he replied coolly. "I know the value of these captives. I won’t bend my price of 10 million credits."

The slavemaster's eyebrows shot up in surprise at Ubel's bold counteroffer.

"10 million? Really?" He echoed, his voice tinged with disbelief. Waving his hand as if to shake off Ubel’s attempt to increase the price. He thought it was a bluff from Ubel. "You must be joking. I worked for many years in this trade kid. I don’t know which system or planet you came from but my eyes know how to see the value of each slave."

Ubel's expression remained unchanged as he met the slavemaster's gaze with steely resolve.

"I assure you, I'm quite serious," he stated firmly. "These captives are worth every credit of that price."

“Okay kid, humor me.” The obese slavemaster leaned, taunting Ubel.

“Each of them was enhanced with cybernetics and implants that assisted them in traversing the black. Their modular upgrades were also high quality and corporate grade… if you know what I meant.” Ubel grinned.

Modular and Corporate Grade. These two words were something that made the ears of the slavemaster twitch when he heard these.

“Which corp?” he leaned closer, asking.

“Stern-Ballast-Ergo marked,” Ubel replied in a whisper.

Although the face of the slavemaster was hidden by his gas mask, Ubel could sense the sudden light in his eyes. There’s a reason why those two words, Corporate and Modular were considered to be above the standard of every cybernetics and implant.

For Modular, it meant that it required no external upgrade in its system as the manufacturer of such a product would always send free updates. And these updates were the silver mines in the black market.

The updates would be sold to the highest bidder which then could be resold to another buyer and so on, until it reached a customer who desires to steal the technology and secrets of the updates. Or it could even be sold to counterfeiters who wanted to copy the technology for a massive profit.

Cracking the security measures around the updates however was next to impossible, that was why most of the clients at the end of the purchase history were always rival companies. Companies that were capable of cracking the security that protects each update. Only those at the top corporations would use modular updates or upgrades on their products to protect their classified technology from being stolen. It was a technological race between corporations.

This is where the Corporate Grade enters, for such a label could be considered the top of the line, reserved only for company agents and private military personnel. As it happened, the three corporations that should be receiving a certain cargo had given Modular and Corporate grades of cybernetics and implants to their sailors.

The slavemaster knew all of this so very well that he considered Ubel's words for a moment before nodding thoughtfully. But Ubel wanted to corner the slavemaster, not giving him any respite to decide, and puts him a sense of urgency.

“If you can’t cater to my price then I’ll take this to another slavemaster.” Ubel was about to lead his party to the next pen when he was stopped by a loud voice.

"Very well," he conceded, his tone businesslike. "I'll agree to your terms, but on one condition."

Ubel arched an eyebrow, silently urging the slavemaster to continue.

"It seems that you’re that pirate who made a ruckus on the docking bay. And knowing that you have a big fleet to give you large plunder… I'll add another half a million credits to the offer," the slavemaster continued, in a whisper. "But only if you agree to sell any future captives you acquire directly to me."

So, it seemed that the slavemaster had his trap for Ubel. He paused to consider the slavemaster's proposition, weighing the potential benefits against the risks. Although he will cut off any potential deals with other slavers in this station, it's much more beneficial for him to have a patron support who will guarantee the disposal of his plunder.

After a moment of contemplation, he nodded in agreement.

"Agreed," he said firmly. "You have yourself a deal."

With the terms of their agreement settled, the slavemaster sent over the 10.5 million credits to Ubel, and the transaction was completed.

Eris gave the chains to the brute henchman of the slavemaster and he led the new slaves to their cages. The gagged prisoners could only cry in despair as they saw their only chance of freedom disappear before their very eyes.

As the captives were led away to their new fate, Ubel couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at the successful outcome of his negotiation. He knew that the credits he had earned would prove invaluable in funding his future endeavors, and he was already thinking ahead to his next move.

His companions just silently looked at him which made him frown slightly in confusion.

“What?” he asked.

“Commander… how did you do it?” Mei asked. “We usually only get a million or even less most of the time.”

Ubel mulled silently for a moment then replied after a quick possibility was formed in his mind.

“Either Munda was being scammed by this Tuteya or other traders… or you are all being scammed by Munda.” he pointed out.

His companions however are not amused at such a scenario.

“What do you mean commander?” Linus frowned, speaking out loud what they wanted to say.

“Just like what I said, it probably that Munda was being lied to by every smuggler or trader who would pass your fleet, lying about the market price of the slaves because of how you cannot confirm the validity of their offers. They probably knew that you had no connections and never docked to a station as you had mentioned. And another possibility is that Munda is secretly in cahoots with the traders, only showing that your group was getting a million for each transaction, only for him to get the big portion of the cut under the table.” Ubel shrugged as he explained. “And from what I see and got from Munda’s personality, it's most probably to be the latter. He is one of the few pirates among the boarding team who sensed my real intent and suspected me on our first contact. He is too cunning to be scammed in my honest opinion.”

“What the fuck?” Eris cursed. “That fucking fat piece of shit.”

“Holy shit.” Mei facepalmed and covered her face with both of her palms, but Ubel could sense anger in her shaking hands.

“What a fucking bastard.” Bastille hissed upon hearing it.

Each of them started insulting the dead Munda.

“Hey hey, at least if it's the latter we still have the chance to take back his assets for our own.” Ubel gave them a safety net.

“What?” all of them dumbfound asked.

“All we have to do is to find which bank he sent his financial property,” Ubel added, raising his finger to make a point.

“How do you know this commander?” Bastille asked.

“What?” Ubel was surprised again. “I hope that you didn’t just assume that I looted their bodies for cybernetics and implants for some kind of gross collection of flesh trophies or to resell, right? Of course, my real objective was to take their digital accounts. It's easy to hack into their bank storage if I still have their cybernetics and implants even after killing them.”

“I didn’t know you could do that.” Orphel whistled.

“Well, now you know.” Ubel sighed at the ignorance of his pirate crew. He made a mental note to also educate them on the advantages and exploits that they could use with hacking, cybernetics, and implants that they never knew previously. “Anyways, the only one I couldn’t crack though is Munda’s.”

“Eh? Why?” Mei asked.

“Because he sent everything to some third-party bank.” Ubel shrugged. “Damn, I need a cig.”

“That doesn’t narrow it down commander, because it could mean a person or a banking group which both have a lot in numbers in this system alone.” Eris pointed out. There’s truth to Eris words. Digital banks in this age can be done by any person that was capable or has implants to store vast amounts of data. Some of the bank owners or their executives use their bodies as data storage for their own private and unrecorded wealth.

“That’s where my hacking skills come in.” Ubel grinned, tapping his forehead. “I was not able to find his financial assets but I was able to find his digital ledgers. If I search around and make connections around here, I could narrow it down to whether the names that were listed were codenames or real names.”

“So that’s why you wanted to dock in an outlaw station.”

“That’s just one of the reasons. To be honest, my real objective is to upgrade every ship on our fleet.” Ubel revealed, sighing deeply.

“Wait, what?” Marus asked.

“You haven’t noticed the appearance of the rotting beds you were sleeping in every time?” Ubel frowned, feeling disturbed that none of them even knew the state of their rotting ships.

“Ah yes, now that you mentioned it, commander…” Mei and others remembered some instances where they were reminded about it, like loosening screws, door locks, falling bulkheads, and rotting ladders.

“I had the help of the drones and droids to make an inspection and what I found is that the entire fleet needs a massive overhaul before our next raid,” Ubel explained. “All ships need an update on their operating and defense systems, the new replacement for the rotting bulkheads, new plates on the hulls, more warheads and shells with ammo for small arms, new storage for breathable air, and filtration unit for each ship. Also, with new stocks of clothes for each of you, and yes, fucking clothes, it was one of the reasons why I also visited or inspected each of your ships in a proxy droid due to how smelly it was. Fuck how did you even live in such a state? I know the stereotype of pirates to never taking a bath or cleaning their ship until they docked in a safe port. But this is too much.”

Each of them started to smell their own body and sensed nothing.

“Of course, you will smell nothing, it's probably the same reason why that fat fuck of a slave master was already immune to the rotting smell around him,” Ubel complained. “He got used to it!”

Then Mei, Marus, Orphel, Linus, Eris, and Bastille started to laugh which confused Ubel.

“What?” he asked.

“It's just that, it's our first time to see you make a long rant at such mundane things commander. Munda would never even.” Marus laughed with a heavy breath.

“You fuckers…” Ubel sighed as he let them have their laughs.

“Anyways… back to the topic, that’s the disadvantage of dealing with third-rate traders. They will take advantage of you who lack the connection and guts to deal with outlaw stations. And would sometimes encourage kickbacks or underhanded deals behind your backs” he replied. “But enough for that dead fucker. Let’s celebrate this time.”

Then Ubel opened the communication channel of his entire crew. He addressed his crew with a grin, his voice carrying an aura of bragging.

"Alright, you scallywags," he lightheartedly announced. "We've made ourselves a tidy sum on trading with the slavers and I reckon it's time we celebrated in style. We earned ourselves 10 million credits!"

“But these wouldn't be perfect if we don’t fully use these to get fuck and get drunk! So each of you will receive an equal share of the profits—1 percent of the 10 million credits. That means each of you will be getting 19,340 credits." he declared, his words met with enthusiastic cheers from the crew.

His crew erupted into loud cheers and applause. Their faces lit up with excitement at the prospect of a well-deserved celebration. Such an amount was already considered to be a very, very high reward for such a pirate. It was the same price to buy a high-quality combat suit. And to live luxuriously even on this station, it only required a person to pay 200 credits per day where he or she could buy any food and drinks until fulfilled or buy a prostitute or two for a day of service with a comfortable roof for the night.

The crew members cheered and exchanged high-fives or long hugs in their extreme celebration, Ubel allowed them to have a moment of satisfaction. He knew that by sharing the wealth among his crew, he was fostering a sense of loyalty and unity that would serve them well in the days to come. He immediately sent their 1% portion to each of them.

"Now," Ubel continued, raising his voice to be heard over the noise of cheering. "I want each of you to go out and enjoy yourselves. Buy the finest booze, feast on the tastiest food, and indulge in whatever pleasures your heart desires. This is your well-earned break, and I expect you to make the most of it. The droids will deploy themselves in position in your stead to guard the ships. So… go! Fulfill your sinful desires you fuckers!"

With that, he dismissed his crew, watching with a satisfied smile as they eagerly dispersed to partake in the revelry. As he watched their happy faces in the holo, Ubel couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. Now he could safely assume that he made their standards, based upon his achievements. After hearing the contribution of Munda and his former lackeys, Ubel already won most of the support and could see the landslide of switches in the crew's perception of him.

Then he turned to the crew who was currently accompanying him who had a wide-open mouth in shock for what he did.

“You just threw… 10 million credits away?”

“What?” Ubel raised his brow in confusion, assuming that he probably did something wrong in their eyes.

“…” All he got was the silent stares of his companions. So, he had to explain some details for clarification this time.

“Geez.” Ubel scratched his head. “You do know that it wasn’t just our only plunder, right?”

“The cargo?” Bastille quickly remembered.

“Why do you always love to answer my questions with another question… yes, yes, and that cargo… is worth 500-600 million credits in the black market.” Ubel dropped a bombshell on their ears.

“HUHH???!!” they all exclaimed in unison shock.

“I always hear: huh and what, why, how, or what the fuck. This is a normal transaction in the underworld! You should get used to it. That cargo would probably be not even enough for what I will be purchasing, as such I would be required to find the right smuggler who needs reputation more than money. Especially that we have something special in the cargo.”

They all just went quiet as Ubel elaborated on the traditional spending in the outlaw stations.

“This is probably why Munda never came to an outlaw station, less profit but less spending also,” Marus whispered to Mei.

“Ah fuck! Anyways go find your kinks here! Always stick together and notify me if anything happens.” Ubel left them on the pens as he took another route which sent him deeper into the city block. “I will go somewhere in the meantime. Enjoy your breaks now.”

Their commander’s silhouette was then swallowed by the darkness of the alleys. Then they all huddled together to discuss their plans.

“Well… where do all of you want to go?” Linus asked.

“I need some bite from all of these, I had enough surprises.” Mei sighed.

“Yeah, let’s go find some grub… not anywhere near here though.” their group went in the opposite direction in which they came from, slowly disappearing in the crowded streets of the slave pens.