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The Bridge of the Eclector.
Star coins are the universal currency, the lifeblood of the cosmic economy, recognized by virtually all races from Xandar to the Sovereign.
"Puff—!"
This time, someone really lost control. A multi-eyed Ravager by the comms station choked on his own saliva, his knees buckling as he practically fainted against the console.
Five billion Star Coins?!
Are you fucking robbing us?!
What kind of dinghy was that golden skiff outside? Was the hull inlaid with pure Vibranium and powered by an Infinity Stone?! If they had five billion star coins, would they still be engaging in this dangerous, grimy business of space piracy? They would have bought a private moon on a tropical vacation planet and retired decades ago!
The Ravagers on the entire bridge felt dizzy, the sheer absurdity of Hermione's outrageous demand short-circuiting their brains.
Yondu Udonta's face shifted from its natural deep blue to a violently bruised shade of purple. He grabbed the armrests of his command chair, taking several deep, ragged breaths before he could even steady his trembling voice.
"My lady... Sir... we really, really don't have that much money!"
His cybernetic fin whirred as his brain worked in overdrive. He quickly added, playing his only trump card:
"We are members of the Ravager syndicate! Our supreme leader is Stakar Ogord! He commands a hundred factions! We beg you to spare us for his sake…"
Yondu prayed that bringing up the legendary, universally feared captain of all Ravagers would make this terrifying Earth girl wary. Everyone respected Stakar.
Hermione merely glanced at him indifferently. She brushed a piece of imaginary lint off her robes.
"Even plunderers must obey basic traffic rules," Hermione said smoothly. "Today, even if Stallone himself—cough, I mean, even if Stakar comes, you still have to pay the insurance deductible."
"My lord, we—"
Yondu tried to interject, desperate to explain that even space pirates had dignity, that they were not to be trifled with, and that five billion was a number that only existed in planetary defense budgets.
"No money?"
Hermione's voice remained perfectly calm, revealing neither joy nor anger. It was the detached tone of a bank teller denying a loan. "If you have no money to compensate me, then you're of no use to me."
Hiss—!
The dozens of fiery crimson serpents floating around the bridge instantly became agitated. Their jaws snapped open, tongues of dark flame flicking out to taste the recycled air. The ambient temperature spiked so violently that the plastic casings on the control panels began to warp and melt. The serpents coiled, preparing to pounce and incinerate everyone in the room into fine gray powder.
"We have money! We have money!" Yondu blurted out, his voice cracking in sheer panic. "We have a way to get the money! Very soon!"
The surrounding Ravagers, grasping at this sudden lifeline, nodded frantically, their heads bobbing like terrified chickens.
"Yes, yes, yes! The Boss is right! We can get the cash!"
"We're good for it, lady! We swear!"
Hermione raised a delicate eyebrow, the fiery serpents halting their advance but maintaining their suffocating encirclement. She gestured lazily with her wand, signaling him to continue.
"It's an artifact! The Cosmic Orb!" Yondu spoke at lightning speed, terrified that if he paused for even a microsecond, she would change her mind and burn them all.
"We got a tip about an ancient relic—the Orb! It's hidden on the dead planet of Morag! I've already sent one of my best men to retrieve it! Well, he's an idiot, but that kid has always had ridiculous luck! He'll definitely get it!"
Yondu leaned forward, his red eyes wide and desperate. "Once we get the Cosmic Orb, we can sell it to the highest bidder on the black market! The Broker on Xandar wants it! At that point, it could be worth more than five billion! Easy!"
Hermione reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, ornate hourglass filled with glittering golden sand. She set it down on the melted control panel next to her with a soft clink.
With a flick of her finger, she turned it over. The golden sand began to fall.
"I'll give you exactly one hourglass of time to continue pitching me this 'Cosmic Orb' business plan."
Watching the fine sand flow away, Yondu felt as though his own life was ticking down in those golden grains. He dared not hide a single detail. He spilled everything: how he learned about the Orb, the coordinates of Morag, the identity of Peter Quill (Star-Lord), and the potential buyers waiting in the wings.
"...So, as long as Quill brings the stuff back to our rendezvous point, we can immediately contact the buyers and fence it!" Yondu wiped the waterfall of cold sweat pouring down his forehead. "If the market is good, selling it for five billion star coins will definitely not be a problem!"
After he finished his breathless pitch, the last grain of sand fell. He looked up cautiously at Hermione.
Hermione nodded slowly, seemingly satisfied with the projected valuation. "How long will this take?"
Yondu hesitated, rubbing his neck. "It's hard to say. Interstellar transactions are quite complicated, and finding a suitable buyer with that kind of capital also takes time... maybe... about a year?"
"You expect me to wait a whole year for my bumper repair?!"
Hermione slammed her hand down on the control panel, the dull thud making every Ravager on the bridge jump out of their skin. The fire serpents flared aggressively.
"No, no, no! Not a year!" Yondu backpedaled instantly, waving his hands. "Six months! Six months at most! If we're lucky, and Quill doesn't screw up, even a month will do!"
Yondu gritted his teeth, deciding to negotiate. He was a pirate, after all. "Sir! How about this? After we get the Cosmic Orb and sell it, we'll split the profits thirty-seventy!"
Hermione tilted her head, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Why only seventy percent for me?"
Yondu almost coughed up a mouthful of blood. She thought he meant seventy for her?! He had meant thirty for her and seventy for them!
But looking at the dark flames reflecting in her eyes, he didn't dare correct her. Instead, he tried to appeal to her nonexistent sympathy.
"Sir, you have no idea how risky our line of work is! Besides, I have over a hundred brothers to feed, and the daily fuel expenses of the Eclector are astronomical. We have to leave some for ourselves, otherwise my crew will starve to death..."
Hermione didn't wait for him to finish the sob story. She simply raised her hand slightly, the Fiendfyre roaring in response.
"It's all yours! It's all yours!" Yondu shouted reflexively, throwing his hands in the air. "A hundred percent! We don't want a single penny! Take it all!"
"That's more like it."
Hermione nodded in satisfaction. She lowered her hand. "But... brother, let's look at the facts. I stopped you... no, wait, you crashed into me. I demanded compensation. But after all that negotiating, I haven't seen a single physical coin. Isn't that a bit much to ask a girl to leave empty-handed?"
"No, that's not appropriate at all!" Yondu agreed frantically, sweating profusely.
"It wouldn't be right for you to lose your lives before you even make any money from this Orb venture, would it?"
"Even less appropriate!" the crew chorused.
"In that case," Hermione pointed her wand straight down at the metal deck of the warship beneath her feet. "Before we get the cash... I'll just hold onto this ship as collateral."
"No problem, it's all yours!" What else could Yondu say? As long as he could keep his head attached to his neck, he would give her the ship, his coat, and his mechanical fin.
"Excellent."
Hermione snapped her fingers.
Poof.
The dozens of terrifying Fiendfyre serpents surrounding everyone instantly broke apart into harmless, glittering sparks and dissipated into the ventilation system. The oppressive, scorching heat inside the bridge rapidly cooled, leaving behind a group of completely exhausted, traumatized Ravagers.
Everyone breathed a massive sigh of relief, slumping against the walls and consoles. They felt as if they had just clawed their way out of the underworld.
However, before their heart rates could even begin to normalize, Hermione spoke again. Her tone was matter-of-fact, like a landlord addressing squatters.
"Alright. Now that this ship is legally mine... what are you all still doing on my ship?"
She gestured toward the door. "Get out of here."
"..."
The entire bridge fell into a paralyzing, horrific silence once again.
All the Ravagers were dumbfounded. They stared at her, their jaws hitting the floor.
Get out?
Where the hell are we supposed to go?!
They stared at Hermione in absolute horror, their eyes wide with disbelief. What was this sociopathic little girl from Earth trying to do?
This was deep space! A total vacuum! They were lightyears away from the nearest breathable atmosphere. Without protective space suits or escape pods, there was only one outcome if they stepped outside.
Yondu's heart sank to the absolute bottom of his stomach. He finally realized his fatal miscalculation. He hadn't encountered a powerful cosmic scammer. He had encountered a ruthless, unhinged killer.
This little girl was a hundred times more brutal than any Ravager roaming the stars!
"Hmm, now... how do I open the main airlock from up here?"
Hermione muttered to herself, looking down at the confusing array of alien buttons and levers on Yondu's command console. She tapped a few screens, looking somewhat bewildered by the interface.
"Forget it, let's not study it anymore. I'll do it the old-fashioned way."
Seeing Hermione step back from the controls, the crew breathed a momentary sigh of relief. She doesn't know how to fly it. We're safe.
But then, Hermione pulled out her wooden wand and pointed it directly at the massive, reinforced steel blast doors of the bridge's primary airlock.
"Alohomora."
CLACK. HISS—!
The heavy internal locks disengaged instantly. With a violent whooshing sound, the massive, airtight hatch sprang wide open to the infinite, freezing void of space.
Instantly, a catastrophic, deafening roar filled the room as explosive decompression took hold. A terrifying suction force ripped through the bridge, dragging consoles, loose weapons, and screaming Ravagers toward the black abyss outside!
Would you like me to continue by rewriting Chapter 219, focusing on how Yondu and his crew survive the vacuum of space, or what Hermione does next with the Eclector?