Comm-Link:B0otyCall - Small Fish

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Listen up, miscreants, because Jester is back and ready to unload straight to your skull.

Let’s all start by celebrating that loudmouthed lout, Captain Bane.

< slow, sarcastic clap >

He’s the current top contender for “Inept Outlaw of the Year.” Seriously, gang, everyone should study what this trog did to learn exactly what not to do on your next raid. If you haven’t heard, this lugnut targeted a massive shipment of Nox coming in from slink space right before they went on sale. Besides the idiocy of attacking a shipment that many, many, many people had a vested interest in protecting, Captain Bane also failed to knock out the hauler’s comm system before it could broadcast a distress signal.

To make matters worse, he didn’t even have the necessary numbers to get the job done. There’s no sadder sound than an outlaw sending out a comm asking for help in capturing a shipment. No matter how they spin it, it’s not a rallying cry, it’s just crying!

Any outlaw with half a brain knows not to fly blind into an unknown situation. Talk about a one-way ticket to getting yourself blown to bits or snagged by the law.

Anyways, Captain Bane, I’m not sure if this signal will reach whatever cellblock you’re locked in, but thank you from the bottom of my heart for brightening my day with your escapades in idiocy. Not only did you give me a good laugh, but your blundering provided me the perfect chance to do some plundering. In fact, you ever get out, comm me and I’ll buy you a drink.

No joke. Folks like Captain Bane are an important part of the outlaw ecosystem. We need small fish like that flailing around to attract the attention of the law and other do-gooders, so us big fish have more room to maneuver. There’s no better time to go left then when everybody else is looking right.

See, I just so happened to be in Baker when Captain Bane staged his dumpster fire of a raid there. When I heard the distress comm from that hauler and Captain Bane’s cry for help in taking it down, I saw opportunity ripe on the vine ready to be plucked.

At the time, I was searching for this ship that did some work for me. It was a legit hauler with clean tags, a trustworthy captain that craved extra creds and a seriously sweet smuggler’s hold. A-plus operation all around, so it really ground my gears when it didn’t arrive at the rendezvous.

To make things worse, I get a ping hours later that the exact item I had so carefully hidden in that hold was now for sale on the dark, just waiting for the highest bidder. Guess they were hoping to sell it before I even got word that it was gone.

None of my contacts had the particulars on who hit the ship, so I decided to find out for myself. I coulda leaned on the fence selling it, but those bastards stake their reputation on acting all innocent and not squealing. He probably would’ve fed me some semi-believable story, and sent me down a path that would only lead to dead ends.

No, if I wanted to know what really happened to that ship and fast, then I’d need to find it and get my hands on its black box. Then I could check the logs to see who was owed my wrath.

That is, if the box was still there. It was a bit of long shot, sure, but you know me, I’m not the type to let go of a grudge over a little hard work.

I tracked down where the ship was last seen and hightailed it there as quick as I could. I followed its route, taking careful scans so I didn’t miss anything. Finally, I got to a sector of the system where the ECN was down — usually a sure sign of shady stuff. I narrowed my scans and finally got a hit that looked promising.

I was just about to blaze to the coordinates when my better senses prevailed. I took some wider scans and spotted a blip on my six that seemed to be on the same course. I killed all non-essential systems and went dark. I sat there, watching it for a bit and quickly became convinced they were looking for the same ship.

See, one of the drawbacks of using a legit shipping concern as a smuggling front is that a lot of straightlaced folks will come looking for the wreckage too. Sometimes it’s scrapers, but more often than not, it’s the bloody vultures contracted by the insurance company. They’re always looking for the black box so they can claim that whatever mischief went down definitely wasn’t their fault and they’re not liable.

Luckily, there seemed to be only that one competitor lurking about, looking for the same ship. Of course, that didn’t mean that more weren’t inbound. I sat there, snacking on some Chicha’s and turning over options in my head. Quantuming to the location would only draw the ship’s attention to exactly where I didn’t want ‘em to be, so I nixed that plan.

A surprise attack could work. With the ECN down, I could strike quickly and knock out the ship without raising the alarm. But while I’ve got no problem taking care of business, I’d rather not create more mess than absolutely necessary. Plus, then I’d have to collect that ship’s black box to keep my trail clean. It’d work, but it wasn’t the fastest or cleanest option.

Instead, I sat just there, hoping the ship didn’t scan the sector as carefully as I did. As much as I love a good fight, I’ve learned that sometimes the right action is no action. This turned out to be one of those cases.

As this ship got closer, I prepped myself for a quick spin up, in case I needed to take matters into my own hands. My finger was nearing the switch when the distress call from that hauler full of Noxs came blaring across my comms. I watched the approaching ship quickly change its heading and quantum away, never knowing how close it’d come to meeting its end.

After that ship disappeared, I took a few more quick scans to make sure the coast was clear, then hauled tail to the coordinates I’d been waiting to investigate. Sure enough, there sat the wreckage of the hauler I was tracking. Took some looking to locate the black box, but I finally found it. I was long gone from the area before the dust settled on Captain Bane’s ineptitude. Once I cracked the box’s logs, it was plain as day who was behind the attack. All that’s left is for me get some well-deserved payback.

In fact, seems like I’m about to cash in. Never forget, folks, mess with me and it’s very likely the last thing you’ll do. Jester out!