“Not too late to just jump, cappy,” Tooley grumbled.

“Just keep us outside of weapons range and keep your finger on the jump button,” Kamak commanded. Tooley placed her entire palm flat on the button that would send them hurtling into faster-than-light travel. “Not that close. You blink too hard you’re going to press it.”

Tooley grumbled something to herself and pulled her hand a little further away. The Doccan warship wasn’t far off now, and its specter loomed large on their scanners.

“When negotiating, it is useful to consider what one wants and what one is willing to surrender,” Farsus said. “What is it we hope to gain from this discussion with the Doccan?”

“For them to stop fucking things up, for starters,” Kamak said. “Everything that goes boom is one more point in favor of Morrakesh.”

“And now that you mention it, confirming that it is Morrakesh would be a good thing too.”

While Corey’s theory on the identity of their attacker had a lot of supporting evidence, it was still just a theory. If the crew were going to clear their names and put an end to the chaos riding their asses, they needed hard evidence.

“And telling them everything we know about this bastard’s plan, well, can’t hurt,” Kamak said. They had very little to lose by spreading their intel around. The more people knew, the more people had a chance of ruining Morrakesh’s plans.

“So that’s our game, then? Tell them everything and hope they can tell us anything? Great plan.”

“Tooley, as your captain, I’m instituting a new rule,” Kamak said. “Unless you have a better plan—genuinely better, not sarcastically better—you don’t get to talk.”

Surprising the entire crew, Tooley obeyed the new rule and stayed silent. That worried them almost as much as the encroaching Doccan vessel. That concern only lasted until the final proximity alarm blared and made the Doccan ship their first, and only, concern. The warning siren gave them a few last seconds of fearful waiting before the warship itself burst into view. Thanks to the sudden stop inherent to the end of FTL travel, the crew went from staring at nothing but empty space to having a warship dominate their entire view in less than a second.

Kamak had wondered how the Doccan could possibly keep a Corrhulk flying centuries past the vessel’s prime, and now he got his answer: by making it into something other than a Corrhulk. There was barely anything left of the original warship, having been taken apart and reassembled so many times it was borderline unrecognizable. In some places, the Doccan had even added new “gun batteries” by welding entire fighter craft to the ship’s exterior.

“How the fuck does that thing fly?”

“It flies, and that’s all that matters,” Doprel said. “Hopefully their long range comms still work too.”

“One way to find out. Tooley?”

The pilot begrudgingly flipped the switch and put them on an open communication channel. It only took a few seconds for the device to crackle to life. The audio feed from the Doccan was barely there, but it was there.

“Vessel Hard Luck Hermit. A Doprel has indicated you may have information beneficial to the Doccan.”

“We do. And we’re willing to share it, if you can offer the right information in exchange. You understand me?”

“We are aware of bargaining,” the Doccan speaker said.

“Great. You got a designation, pal? This goes a lot easier if I know who I’m talking to.”

“I am an Odorel.”

“That’s good,” Doprel said. “High ranking. We can get something done with that.”

“Alright, Odorel, nice to meet you,” Kamak said. “If you’ll give me a moment, I’m preparing a document that contains everything we told your Doprel. You may have been told already, but I figure it’ll be good for both parties to have an easily transmissible reference file on hand.”

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“This is acceptable.”

Kamak wrapped up most of everything they knew about Morrakesh’s presumed plot and sent it over the open channel, giving the Doccan some time to review it before he continued.

“Any thoughts, Odorel?”

“The evidence does support your theory that this entity seeks to manipulate trade routes through our galaxy,” Odorel said. “What it fails to make evident is why this concerns the Doccan. We do not engage in trade with other races.”

“Look at the bigger picture. This guy’s putting pressure on multiple trade routes throughout the universe,” Kamak explained. “If this keeps up, the trade route through Doccan space is going to become more important, not less. There’ll be more armed patrols through your territory, and more attempts to curb your expansion.”

“As a Galactic Council transit officer, license number ten-eight-four-one AB two-point-two,” To Vo added. “I can attest to the fact that there is precedent for armed enforcement of crisis-stricken trade routes.”

“Your distance from the epicenter of these incidents also means the perpetrator has little incentive to assist or aid you,” Farsus continued. “What he does here is meant to harm his enemies, not help you. Once the damage is done, he will have no incentive to offer you support in your defense against a newly aggressive foe.”

“Intriguing points. However, they are based on inferences and suppositions, unsupported by actual evidence.”

“Which we’re hoping you can provide,” Kamak said. “You’ve seen more of this schemer than we have. We’re hoping you can fill in some gaps for us, and we’ll do the same for you.”

“Acceptable. Do you seek specific information?”

“We’ll take anything you can give,” Kamak said. “Though we’d like to start with a comprehensive description of the perpetrator, if possible.”

Corey was still surprised at how professionally Kamak could conduct himself when the time came, especially compared to how he normally behaved. When discussing this exact topic a few days ago, he had phrased the same question as “I want to find out what this intergalactic skullfucking son of a bitch looks like”. Corey liked that version better, frankly, though he doubted the Doccan would appreciate the colorful language.

“The interloper was physically observed by only one Doccan, who never shared what he saw.”

“Why not?”

“The interloper requested the presence of a single Doccan aboard his vessel. The offered Doccan did not return. Two swaps later, the interloper spoke to us in our own language, without the use of translation chips.”

Kamak looked to Farsus, who only shrugged in response. Even he’d never heard of anyone capable of learning an entire language in just two swaps. The average creature’s cognitive ability simply didn’t allow for such rapid learning.

“What kind of vessel did the ‘interloper’ appear in?”

“A purple ship, resembling certain species of aquatic life.”

“Dead ringer for the ship that’s been causing trouble for us,” Kamak said.

“An intriguing but potentially coincidental connection,” Odorel said. “We have provided a great deal of relevant information. Fair exchange demands further concessions from your party.”

“Fine. Are you familiar with Morrakesh and the Morrakesh Collective?”

“We possess as much information as is publicly available,” Odorel said. Being part crime lord and part tyrant, there was little information to be had about Morrakesh.

“We have good reason to believe he’s the one responsible for all of this,” Kamak said. “We had a run in with some subordinates of his before all this started. We believe it may have attracted his attention to our crew and made him decide to use us as a diversion.”

In spite of his attempts at self control, Kamak couldn’t help but side-eye Corey. The fact they’d helped disrupt a shipment of slaves meant for Morrakesh’s menagerie was part of the reason they were in this mess. None of it was Corey’s fault, but he was a very visible reminder of the exact moment their lives had gone off the rails.

“We have no information to support this hypothesis,” Odorel said. “However, we also see no reason to doubt it in the provided information.”

“Alright. Where do we go from here, then?”

“Now we discuss the path forward,” Odorel said. “It has been proposed that if this interloper is so driven on drawing negative attention to you, killing you may earn his favor.”

The crudely welded gun turrets of the Doccan warship drifted slowly but surely in the direction of the Hard Luck Hermit. Tooley’s hand drifted a little closer to their launch button, but Kamak didn’t blink.

“Wrong. If you want to be on Morrakesh’s good side, he wants us alive so he can keep distracting people with us,” Kamak said. “And if you don’t want to help Morrakesh, keeping us alive gives you a better chance in the fight against him. Either way, us being alive works in your benefit.”

The gun turrets almost immediately stopped moving in their direction. Kamak stopped holding his breath.

“The question now, Odorel, is what you want to do about Morrakesh manipulating your entire species.”

“We are not able to make such decisions on behalf of the Doccan as a whole. The matter will require further debate.”

“I understand. Are we free to leave?”

“You will leave with or without our permission.”

“Yes, we will,” Kamak said. “But I’d prefer to end this on a positive note.”

“We have no reason to keep you. We will contact you if it is decided we benefit from your cooperation.”

“Noted. Tooley, shut down comms and get us out of here. We’ve left the channel open too long.”

While open channels were necessary for communications with unknown factors like the Doccan, they had many drawbacks. The wavelength could be easily detected by anyone who was looking -and there were a lot of people looking for Kamak right now.