Chapter 76: Ripples of Information

Disclaimer: Star Wars and all of it's Intellectual Properties is owned by George Lucas and Walt Disney, This fictional work and all of it's original characters are however mine.

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Mira's P.O.V. :

After a quick breakfast, I got straight to work preparing for my errand of the day. While swapping out my gear, my mind ran through its usual mental warm-ups, assessing possible scenarios and contingency plans. Yesterday’s supply run had been a success—Kado and Tarek offloaded our ‘antique’ weapons to the right buyers, while Shmi, Anakin, and I secured enough foodstuffs to keep both the Stellar Envoy and the station stocked for the foreseeable future. Nick-03 was handling the inventory, leaving me free to focus on today’s objective: intelligence gathering.

I wasn’t the only one on the hunt. Kado would be working his own angles, using his own methods—likely involving a mix of casual charm and calculated intimidation via business. I, on the other hand, preferred a quieter approach. The kind of information I was after didn’t come from asking too many questions. It came from listening, from observing, from knowing where to be and when to keep my mouth shut. That meant blending in, and unfortunately, Jake’s armor was about as subtle as a Wookiee in a closet. My old gear would have to do.

As I adjusted my chest plate and tightened my gloves, I ran a quick diagnostic on my equipment. My enhanced blasters looked no different from standard models, and my wrist-worn energy shield was discreet enough to pass unnoticed. That was the point. If I was going to swim through a pond full of scum, I couldn’t look like a hunter. I had to look like just another small-time operator trying to make a credit—someone not worth noticing.

With my weapons secured and my gear in place, I tapped my commlink. “Shmi, you reading me?”

“Loud and clear,” came her voice. “I’ll keep an open channel. If anything goes sideways, you give me a heads-up.”

“Appreciate it.” I double-checked my connection to the Stellar Envoy—steady and uninterrupted. “I’ll be keeping things quiet, but if I need a quick out, I’ll let you know.”

“Stay sharp, Mira. Ryloth may be in Republic space but isn’t known for being forgiving.”

I let out a dry chuckle. “Yeah, well, neither am I.”

Making sure no one had eyes on me, I slipped down the ramp and out into the port. The air was thick with the usual market smells—spiced food, engine coolant, and just the right amount of desperation. I moved at a steady pace, not too fast, not too slow. Just another spacer looking for work, looking for something to flip for a quick profit.

The nearest market was the best place to start—not for information itself, but for making first contact. The underground had its own currents, and if you knew how to read them, you could follow the ripples to the source. I needed to find those ripples.

The moment I stepped into the bazaar, I felt the change in atmosphere. Vendors called out their wares, gamblers and mercs lingered in the alleys, and Twi’lek dancers performed on raised platforms to entice patrons into nearby cantinas. I took my time weaving through the stalls, letting the flow of the crowd carry me. Every now and then, I caught snippets of conversation—shipment routes, bounty postings, territorial disputes. None of it what I was looking for. Not yet.

I spotted a likely place—a cantina, dimly lit, its entrance flanked by a pair of off-duty enforcers nursing drinks that probably weren’t their first. The kind of place where people talked too much after a few rounds.

Taking a breath, I adjusted my stance, squared my shoulders, and stepped inside. Time to get to work.

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Five cantinas. Five different crowds, five different owners, and the same damn conversation.

I leaned back against a booth in the latest dive, swirling a drink I barely sipped. A group of spacers nearby were loudly discussing the same thing I’d heard all day—a pirate crew hiring fresh blood. Not exactly shocking news in a place like this, but the fact that every cantina was buzzing about it? That was strange. It felt manufactured, like someone wanted it to be common knowledge.

I checked my surroundings, then tapped my comms. "Shmi, tell me I’m not crazy. Five stops, and all I’m getting is recruitment chatter for some pirate outfit."

There was a slight delay before she responded. "It’s odd, but not unheard of. Could be a major push for numbers, or someone making sure the right people hear about it."

"Yeah, but nothing else? No talk of a Hutt getting knocked over, no rumors of a Republic crackdown, not even a drunken exaggeration about a krayt dragon sighting?" I scoffed. "Feels like someone’s deliberately keeping the news cycle small."

Shmi hummed in thought. "You think it's a setup?"

"Could be. Or maybe just coincidence." I sighed, pushing my untouched drink away. "Either way, I’ll have to dig deeper tomorrow. Something about this doesn’t sit right."

By the time I made it back to the Stellar Envoy, the twin suns were dipping low, casting long shadows across the landing bay. As I stepped inside, Shmi was already waiting for me with her arms crossed, amusement clear on her face.

"Kado beat you back by a few minutes. He’s been waiting to start the meeting, but I told him meals first, business second." She smirked, glancing toward the lounge. "He tried to argue, but—well, you know how that went."

I snorted, shaking my head. "Poor guy never stood a chance."

As I set my gear aside and stretched out the tension from a long day, I caught a whiff of something actually edible. Looked like Shmi had put something together while waiting.

"Guess that means we eat first," I said, rubbing my hands together. "Good. I need something solid before I try making sense of today’s nonsense."

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After a quick meal, we wasted no time getting into the thick of our information gathering. Kado was the first to speak, leaning back in his seat with a thoughtful expression as he laid out what he’d picked up from business owners and common folk alike.

“Nothing too surprising from the Core Worlds—big shots are still busy lining their pockets and making sure no one disturbs their profits,” Kado started, drumming his fingers on the table. “Didn’t hear it phrased that way, of course, but that’s the gist.”

“Shocking,” I said dryly. “Truly groundbreaking revelations.”

Kado smirked before continuing. “What was more interesting was the talk about off-world merchants getting hit by pirates—same group, not multiple. That was the part that caught my attention. Every story led back to a single crew pulling off hit after hit.”

“That’s unusual,” Tarek chimed in, his curiosity piqued. “Could it be one of those big-name syndicates masking their tracks, making it look like just one big crew.”

“It's either that, or they're a real well-oiled outfit,” I added. “Most pirates don’t keep their operations that tight.”

Shmi, ever the rational one, tapped a finger against the table. “How do you know it’s not just rumor? Business owners talk, but they’re not exactly impartial.”

Kado nodded. “True, but it wasn’t just merchants. Workers, supply runners, even dock hands mentioned it. Either there’s something to it, or someone’s been spreading the same tale across different circles.”

We spent a bit of time dissecting the possibilities, with Tarek throwing out some wildly outlandish theories—everything from a rogue Imperial operation to some cursed ghost crew—and Shmi balancing them out with more grounded speculations. Kado didn’t seem ready to commit to one theory just yet, but it was clear he thought this wasn’t just idle cantina gossip.

Once their discussion died down, I shared what I had gathered. “Can’t say I had much better luck. Five cantinas, and the only real intel I got was that some pirate group is hiring. Same topic, over and over, no matter where I went. That’s what’s weird about it.”

Shmi raised a brow. “Maybe they’re recruiting in bulk?”

“Possible, but Ryloth isn’t exactly the best place for mass hiring, unless they’re scraping the bottom of the barrel.” I leaned back, crossing my arms. “I got plenty of small talk, little snippets of this and that, but nothing substantial. And nothing about Tatooine, or the Hutts.”

Kado exhaled through his nose, clearly not thrilled by that. “That’s not great. If something’s up back there, we need to know.”

“No argument from me,” I replied. “But whatever’s going on, it’s not reaching the usual channels. Which also means we’re going to have to dig deeper.”

A silence hung in the air as we all mulled over the implications. Shmi finally broke it with a practical observation. “Well, at least we’re not empty-handed. Even if we don’t have the full picture yet, we know something is shifting out there.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, “just wish I knew what.”

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The very next day, we repeated our intel-gathering efforts, but this time, Shmi and Tarek were actively helping using the Stellar Envoy’s systems. Instead of only being connected to my commlink, Shmi was now cross-checking bounty data and scanning the patrons of the cantinas I visited, seeing if any of them had warrants on their heads or interesting connections. Maybe I could subtly prod them under the guise of curiosity and job hunting.

Tarek, on the other hand, was combing through ship logs and merchant reports with the help of Nick-03, searching for any patterns in the attacks plaguing off-world traders. The goal was to pinpoint where these pirates were striking, how they were moving, and whether we could get a better idea of who was running the operation.

As for me, I was taking a broader approach. Cantinas were still a priority, but they weren’t the only places to pick up information. The black market always had its share of whispers—smugglers, fences, and traders exchanging goods and rumors alike. Underground auctions were another potential source, catering to the wealthy and those with questionable morals. And, of course, there were the slave markets. I didn’t just gather intel there—I made mental notes of faces and names, marking potential targets for later when we went back to hunting slavers.

My first stop was another cantina, one of the more discreet ones where people preferred to be unnoticed. The smell of cheap lum and spice clung to the air, and the low hum of conversations overlapped with the occasional outburst of laughter or argument. I slid into a seat at the bar, ordering a drink I had no intention of actually finishing. As I listened to the surrounding chatter, I flicked my comm twice—our silent signal to let Shmi know I was settled in.

A Rodian and a Weequay were discussing trade routes, their voices just low enough to be secretive but not low enough to keep from prying ears. I casually shifted closer, pretending to focus on my drink.

“—only a matter of time before they hit again,” the Rodian muttered. “That last freighter barely made it out, lost half its cargo.”

Weequay grunted. “Yeah, but they ain’t stupid. If they’re working with someone big, they’ll know when to pull back.”

That was interesting. I activated the mic on my commlink subtly, letting Shmi record and analyze their conversation. I played it casual, flagging down the bartender and leaning in as he poured.

“Sounds like someone’s making a killing out there,” I said offhandedly. “A crew that coordinated—must be raking in a lot of credits.”

The Rodian gave me a wary look. “Why you interested?”

I shrugged. “Looking for work. If someone’s got a good setup, maybe I want in.”

Weequay scoffed, shaking his head. “You don’t want in. Word is, these guys don’t leave loose ends.”

That was even more interesting. I gave them a knowing smirk, acting like I wasn’t fazed. “That’s the price for working with professionals, huh?”

The Rodian clicked his fingers on the table, clearly debating how much he should say. “All I know is, they’re not just hitting random ships. They’ve got a pattern—they follow certain routes, and at certain times. Someone on the inside’s probably feeding them info.”

I felt my pulse pick up slightly. That was exactly the kind of intel we needed. I gave a slow nod, thanked the bartender, and stood up. Before I left, I muttered just loud enough for them to hear, “Well, if you find out who’s the one paying, maybe you could let me know.”

Slipping out of the cantina, I waited until I was a good distance away before speaking quietly into my comm. “Shmi, please tell me you got all that.”

“Every word,” she confirmed. “I’m already running comparisons on the ship logs from Tarek’s search.”

“Good. Let’s see if we can find the pattern before they realize we’re watching.”

I had more places to visit before the day was done, but this was already turning out to be more productive than yesterday.

And it's looking like we're going to have lots of things to do when we get back to the station.