On the border of Serroco, two notorious brutes known for their misdeeds sit aboard a Corona-class frigate, enjoying drinks and lighthearted banter. Then, one of them—Lord Captain Ximaro Jix—steps forward and speaks into Captain Krodo Rask’s illegal radio station microphone, broadcasting theatrically across the galaxy to anyone tuning into to their words of mayhem.

Governments and corporations see themselves as the only thing keeping civilized society stable against a dreadful pirate republic known as the Shadow Dominion which lays siege to Serroco space and land. Here there are "no real winners", only death and scrap heaps of precious metals left in the graveyards of the void of space, as each side celebrates its "little" victories against one another. Here vessel crews often pay the price for commanding officers' miscalculations who are fearful and reluctant to go down with their boats, jumping into escape pods in their airlock death suits to avoid the same insufferable fate as their brethren.

What will the greater galaxy do as reality seems to have flipped upside down? How will we manage in the vastness of space we once knew, inhabited by few pockets of unbridled freedom, now succumbing to a greater pull of chaos? How will peaceful leaders hiding behind their camera screens showing this daunting footage publicly with their high command huddled into a broom closet with fear like Dex Sehrin, survive if the war surpasses Confederacy of Independent System fleets and finds its way to safe Tar Morden? How do we save Dex, the robot maker clearly fearing for his life jammed in between two droids like a Coruscant pancake?

The that the sickness of free trade does not infect our values, so that new measures put in place can protect you, the hardworking sentient who can't even afford a decent ship or their own land because of these pirates that control significantly less than their enemies are running amuck and should be gibbited for raising taxes due to black market sales . Let us pray that we may endure the effects of this unstable region and virus that is vice does not spread but stops by the hands of justice that are wielded by the peace keeping force protecting Serroco. Let us pray. 

However since Krodo and I are heathens, we will share this shanty with you about our favorite place void space we call the "darkest sea".
 

Now Krodo and I will perform a shanty, so cover your ears, they may begin to bleed. I will be singing the verses and Krodo the chorus with me. Ximaro announces and Krodo agrees playing some strange harmonics changing in and out of singing.

(Verse 1)
Here we sail, in the void of space of death where our victims hide with baited breath
Where morality's lost, 
In the darkest sea, where Dex will not be, because its the safety of Tar Morden the Nautalon can see. Unlike the robot creator Truse'vala'ilone, can survive on his own. Perhaps this is why, Dex Is hiding in a small closet with that high command neck brace guy.

(Chorus)
In our ships, we ply our trade, we 
Plunder and pillage, out of sight, we've made our escape 
Our business to remain free and bold
In this darkest sea, where our legend's told. Even if Captain Krodo Drank too much rum he'd tell the truth before Mador Adami gave Up his ruse. Did you know, that Bukki and his crew were here too? They fled said Truse.

(Verse 2)
Here we stand, with fists raised high
Our thieves cry, which echoes the sky
We live to always be the enemy, in your eyes
Just as you'll be a fair game in Ximaro's one yellow lizard eye

(Chorus)
We're proud and true, our crew will never fall
Your hatred is our fuel, for this defiant call
In this darkest sea, we stand as one
Unbroken, till our deeds are done

(Verse 3)
And should their be loss
We'll rise with our flags unbound
In this darkest sea, like Phoenix we rise 
Because here the only way for us to live  is be who you despise.

(Chorus)
We're proud and true, our crew will never fall
Your hatred is our fuel, our defiant call
In this darkest sea, we stand as one
Free and unbroken, till we feel our raids are done, then will vanish into this darkest 
Ocean of space where it is we are free because this our life full of skullduggery and fun.

The Kaleesh and Falleen then laugh and smile clapping before shaking hands quickly and Ximaro speaks back into the mic.

This has been an airlock deathsuit production provided by Blackstar and Bedlam Raiders, broadcasting to every backwater radio station there is.

No Gods, No Kings, No Masters 

~Ximaro