Side quest: The Butcher's Pact

A Black Fleet Butcher-class — brawler hull, trophy plating welded in scars — breaks off from a raider group and hails you on an Alliance frequency, which is the kind of thing no Black Fleet captain does. The voice is a woman's, gravelly, not in a hurry. 'Pilot. Don't shoot yet. Don't flee yet. I'm Taran Vex, captain of the Red Oath. I'm defecting. I need an escort out of Black Fleet Reach. My clan will kill me by sundown. I'll pay in something you won't want to give back.'

Taran pulls her Butcher alongside at zero relative velocity — a vulnerable gesture for a ship built to ram. 'Here is what I pay. I've run with the Black Fleet fourteen years. I know three of their Warlord hulls by sight, which one Clan-Lord sleeps on which ship, and where the next raid on Neth-3 is staged. I give you all of that, free, if you get me to Haven Prime alive. My ship I scuttle at the halfway mark. I won't bring a Butcher into an Alliance dock. Deal?'

You fire first. Taran's wingmen drop from a cold orbit you hadn't scanned — it was a trap, technically. But Taran herself doesn't fire back at you. She shoots her OWN wingmen, takes three hull hits doing it, and hails you through gritted teeth. 'I am trying to defect. My clan guessed. I tried to use you as the witness. I am sorry. If you can still escort me, the offer stands. If not, kill me quickly, please. Don't let them take me alive.'

Seven warps between Black Fleet Reach and Haven Prime. Four of them are contested. Taran scuttles the Butcher in the Drossfield as promised — climbs over in a pressure suit, dumps the reactor, leaves her trophies to rust in the wreckage fields. Her clan sends two Warlords after you at the fifth warp. Taran, in your co-pilot seat, calls their fire patterns before they fire. You make it to Haven alive. She walks off your ship with the clothes on her back and a promise you can't stop her keeping.

Taran pauses for a long time at the offer to keep her ship. 'I will not lie to you,' she says, 'I wanted to keep her. The Red Oath was my first command. I named her at nineteen.' She runs her gloved hand along the console. 'If you'll pay the refit, I'll crew her for you, not the clans. You'll have a Butcher-class under independent colors. It's a heavy debt to take on. I'll repay it in years.'

You line up the shot. Taran sees it coming and keys the mic one last time. 'Thank you. Tell them at Haven that the Red Oath captain chose her own end. They'll put it in the book.' You fire. The Butcher pops along its welded seams. The Black Fleet patrols arrive to a wreck they weren't allowed to own.

You warp out. You do not look back. Later, at a station bar you don't frequent, you will overhear that a Black Fleet Butcher captain named Taran Vex was executed by her own clan at the Drossfield. You will not talk about it. You will drink faster and go home.