Mandalorian Warrior Aruetycate E'tad jumped into Omega 5 in his Eagle.
Then things went awry.
His nav computer and targetting computer responded badly to the jump completion, back into normal space. And by "responding badly", it is meant "combusting".
Hacking and coughing, he activated the fire suppression system, then began breathing through his oxygen mask, lest he suffocate on the smoke from the burning plastic and insulation. In time, the air cleared, and he was able to gather his thoughts.
Which were "Damndamndamndamndamndamndamn...."
Then he realized his sensors could still detect jumpholes, even though he had no nav computer to tell him which ones they were. Not a particular problem, since he felt he could dead reckon his way to the Cambridge jump hole, and after a few minutes of cruising, and skirting the Corsair defenses, he smiled as he saw the Cambridge jumphole ahead of him, and he jumped into Cambridge.
Big Problem.
Not Cambridge.
So very, very, very not Cambridge.
Missile platforms opened up in front of him and to his left and right. Three ships appeared in front of him, and their predatory appearance, and the red star on their hulls, let him know quite precisely how much trouble he was in.
"Oh. God. Coalition."
He spun his Eagle around and flew back into the jumphole which he had just emerged from. His receiver crackled with demands in Russian which he had no way of comprehending, and no interest in heeding in any case.
One fighter followed him.
In Omega 5, he dodged his pursuer like a fiend, but the unfamiliar Coalition weapons stripped his shield, then seared his hull.
With no targetting computer, and only substandard weapons and armour, the outcome of the fight was inevitable:
Warrior Aruetycate E'tad sat in his pod, wishing he could stand Vodka. He expected he would have to get used to it.
Dha Piruna strode into the Mandalore's new office on board Barrier Gate Station. The Mandalorians were renting quite a chunk of the station, including, he had just learned, the entire 3rd Floor of 'A' Pod.
Which is why he had come.
"Who the hell is David Starkey, and why are we paying him an annual salary of 400,000 Credits, and why does he have the run of the 3rd Floor facilities, and why did we take those facilities over, anyway?"
"Wind tunnel. Engine Lab.", the Mandalore answered obliquely.
"What?!?" Dha was used to this sort of thing. John Cabot was also like this. Liked surprises. Had to be a Bretonian thing.
Mandalore Bishop gestured at Dha to sit. He did.
"It's quite simple, Dha. We need our own ships. I'm tired of crawling to the Bounty Hunters Guild, the Zoners, or the Bretonians to buy ships and guns."
"We need our own. And other Mercenaries will buy them too. It can be a profitable business in its own right. Mr Starkey is designing a line of ships for us. A fighter, a bomber, and a gunship. It won't be an exclusively Mandalorian shipline. Open market. Well, mostly open."
Dha Piruna nodded. This he could tolerate. Mercenaries buying Mandalorian ships would help the money situation in two ways; no more buying them from others, and it would add an income stream to the organisation.
The deliberations of Mandalore and Consul were interrupted by Diane Blane, who walked into the room, face pale.
She had in her hands a box.
There was blood on that box.
Billy stood upright in alarm, as did Dha. Diane spoke in a quiet voice, heavy with suppressed rage.
"Some.. people.. thought I was still Mandalore. They don't emerge from their hole often, I guess... They sent me this..."
She peeled back the box lid, to reveal the severed head of Aruetycate E'tad, complete with a branded hammer and sickle, and words carved into his skin. Cyrillic : "Mercenary" in Russian.
Comrade Lt Commander Norman Bethune stood rigidly in front of Pilot Pavel Medvedov. He spoke in heavily accented Russian, which accent betrayed his Bretonian roots.
"Let me see if I've got this straight..", he began.
"You gave the prisoner to the Mongolian for interrogation.."
Pavel nodded slowly, his old grey eyes flickering with emotion.
Norman sighed and rubbed his eyes with his hands.
"And as usual, all we have learned from this interrogation is that men scream as they are dismembered. I assume he sent his usual package?"
Pavel nodded again. He was still shocked at what he had witnessed. He'd seen many things in his long span of years, and much cruelty, but... the Mongolian was something else entirely.
There was no questioning the Mongolian's enthusiasm, but his effectiveness....
Bethune looked out a portal at the planet below.
"They will hunt us now. Pointless, really."
And far away in Coronado, grim faced men and women were preparing to do just that.