Batu Ampar Harbor at night has its own activities.
There stands Galangan Brahmantara. Old, hard, and honest. A place where ships considered dead are given a second chance.
Rakai Saloka stands at the end of the pier, arms folded across his chest. His eyes never leave the ship Arus Barat, now his inheritance.
The hull is covered in scars. Wooden planks peeled, some still dark from dried blood and fire. The main mast broken, now propped by heavy beams.
"She's still breathing," Rakai muttered.
Kirana stands beside him, hair tied carelessly. Her sleeves still stained with potion residue and dried blood.
"Or she's too stubborn to sink. Ships like this usually become fish homes."
"Like us. Should be dead. But life isn't done playing," Wira said, sitting on a barrel.
Bagaspati Karang snorted. His massive body leaned against a pier post.
"As long as she floats and carries us to victory against enemies, I don't care if she breathes or curses us every night."
Rakai gave a faint smile. Something like hope stirred in his chest.
GALANGAN BRAHMANTARA
Empu Brahmantara appeared at dawn. The old man walked haltingly but firmly, leaning on an iron staff topped with a ship nail head. His hair and beard dull white, face etched with age, yet his eyes sharp as a sea eagle's.
He circled Rakai's ship slowly, touching planks, tapping the keel, even pressing his ear to the hull as if listening to whispers.
"War jong," he finally muttered. "Big… but forced to move fast. Whoever built her was mad or desperate."
"My former captain," Rakai replied shortly.
Empu smiled crookedly. "Sounds like a mad sailor."
He turned serious. "You want her to sail again?"
"Not just sail," Rakai said. "I want her feared."
Empu Brahmantara laughed softly, voice raspy like sawed wood.
"Then listen well. I can reinforce the hull with ironwood from the interior. Replace sails with heavier, storm-resistant canvas. Add weapon rooms fore and aft. But it's expensive."
Rakai placed a leather pouch on the yard table. Gold coins spilled, gleaming dully.
"Is this enough to bring her back?" Rakai asked.
Empu picked up a coin, bit it. "No. But enough to make her crazy again."
"Where'd you get that money?" Kirana whispered, stepping closer.
"Borrowed from a rich merchant at the market," Rakai said calmly.
"You stole it, didn't you? From today, report every coin you rob to me!" Kirana said quietly, annoyed.
"Yeah, yeah, so nagging," Rakai laughed.
DAYS OF REPAIR
Days turned into long ones. Rakai helped lift planks, haul ropes, scrub the hull. Bagaspati assisted the yard workers as if it were light work, lifting beams that normally needed three men.
Wira watched the wind, noting how the ship moved with the tide.
"You treat her like a person," Kirana teased, seeing Rakai touch the hull.
"Because this ship saved me," Rakai answered.
"Then," Kirana smiled faintly, "we'll make sure she never dies again."
At night they sat on deck, eating simply.
"If this ship is alive," Wira said, "she must be traumatized."
Bagaspati chuckled. "Good. Means she fits with us."
SHIP'S NAME
Second week, when the yard was quiet and the sea gleamed black, Rakai stood alone on deck. He remembered blood, screams, and splintering wood from Arus Barat's last battle.
Kirana approached. "You haven't slept."
"Burying the old one," Rakai replied.
Wira and Bagaspati climbed up.
"Every ship needs a name," Wira said. "Without it, the sea won't know her."
Rakai took a deep breath.
"The name is JALADRI PRALAYA."
"Ocean Destroyer?" Bagaspati murmured.
"Yes," Rakai nodded. "A reminder that the sea belongs to no one."
No one argued.
BLACK SALOKA FLAG
Black cloth stretched on the pier. Kirana poured thick red dye, while Wira drew two crossed swords.
"Why red?" Bagaspati asked.
"Because red isn't just brave, it's power," Rakai answered.
As the flag rose slowly to the new mast, sea wind snapped it hard.
"From today," Rakai declared loudly, "we are the Saloka Pirates."
No cheers. Only quiet nods. Loyalty born in silence.
NALA BAYANG JOINS
The name spread through port alleys like whispers. A master of espionage and scouting. Worked for anyone who paid for information.
Nala Bayang.
Rakai found him in a small gambling den. The man thin, short, eyes calm, smile sly.
"If you came to kill me," Nala said without turning, "you came unprepared."
"If I came to offer work," Rakai replied, "I came on time."
Their talk was long, full of barbs and tests.
"Why should I join?" Nala asked.
"Because sooner or later, Sriwijaya will burn this port," Rakai said. "And you'll need an escape."
Nala laughed softly. "You're dangerous too."
"Not yet," Rakai said. "But I'm learning."
FIRST TARGET
In the cramped cabin, a sea chart spread.
"Ancient Mataram merchant ship," Nala said. "Cargo: silk, bronze, rice. Light escort. Passes here in three days."
"Good prey. We need funds and supplies," Kirana said.
"And reputation," Wira added.
Bagaspati cracked his neck. "I'm tired of waiting."
Rakai stared at the chart long.
"This isn't ordinary piracy," he said. "It's an introduction."
"An introduction they'll remember?" Wira smiled.
FIRST BLOOD OF JALADRI PRALAYA
The morning sea was calm and serene.
Rakai Saloka stood at the bow, hands on the rail. Eyes narrowed through the mist.
"Target?" he asked without turning.
Wira Lelana on the lookout post, hand shielding eyes from faint glare. "One large merchant. Wide hull, brown sails. Mataram Kuno formation."
Kirana snorted softly. "No escort?"
"Usually no one dares touch them in Sriwijaya waters," Nala Bayang said from behind.
"Escort: twenty-five soldiers. Not mercenaries. Royal troops."
Bagaspati cracked his neck. "Good. I miss exercise."
Rakai raised a hand.
"Listen," he said softly, voice cutting the sea hiss. "Our first piracy. No useless shouts. No needless slaughter. We take the ship, cargo, and their honor."
He looked at each crew member.
"Anyone in our way dies."
No reply. Only nods.
MATARAM KUNO SHIP
The merchant emerged from fog like a floating fortress. Tall hull carved with ancient Mataram symbols. On deck, spear- and sword-armed soldiers stood alert. Not recruits. Bodies honed, eyes trained.
"Twenty-five," Wira muttered. "Defensive formation. They're waiting."
"Good," Rakai said. "Means they're afraid."
Jaladri Pralaya turned sharply, cutting wind. Black sails unfurled full.
Kirana asked innocently. "We're starting now, right?"
FIRST BATTLE
Shouts rose from the Mataram ship as the black flag with red crossed swords flew.
"PIRATES!" a soldier yelled.
First arrow released.
"Now!" Rakai shouted.
Bagaspati leaped first, massive body smashing the merchant's rail like a bull. Two soldiers flew before raising weapons.
Wira moved fast, sliding down rigging, arrow piercing a shouting officer's throat.
Kirana slipped through shadows, knife flashing, one, two, three tendons cut, bodies dropped silently.
Nala Bayang already behind enemy lines, sowing chaos with fake shouts and thin smoke bombs.
And Rakai…
Rakai advanced to mid-deck.
Twin long swords drawn.
SALOKA'S TWIN BLADES
First Mataram soldier lunged with spear.
Rakai shifted half a step.
Left sword parried.
Right sword slashed.
Blood sprayed.
Movements fast, almost seamless. He spun, cut the next attack, struck wrist, broke formation.
"Sea god…" one soldier whispered before Rakai's blade silenced him forever.
Bagaspati roared, iron mace smashing shield, breaking bone behind it.
"He's not human!" Wira whispered from afar, watching Rakai move like a storm.
Kirana slashed from the side, precise, cold. "No," she said softly. "He's just stupid."
Rakai parried three attacks at once, locked with left sword, right stabbed under ribs.
Last soldier retreated in terror.
"Don't!" he screamed.
Rakai stopped.
"Drop your weapon," he said flatly.
Sword clattered.
SILENCE AFTER BLOOD
Twenty-five soldiers.
Seventeen dead.
Eight wounded and surrendered.
None of Saloka crew fell.
Bagaspati panted, laughed shortly. "That was… fun."
Wira descended from the mast, still staring at Rakai. "I've seen royal warriors. Not like that."
Kirana cleaned her knife. "You told us to stay calm, but you went berserk, Captain."
Rakai sheathed his swords. "Call it practice."
LOOT
Mataram Kuno cargo abundant.
Fine silk.
Bronze.
Rice.
Several chests of gold.
"More than enough," Nala Bayang said. "Our name will spread."
Rakai nodded. "Make sure they live."
"Why?" Bagaspati asked.
"So they can tell the story."
RETURN TO BATU AMPAR
Jaladri Pralaya returned to Batu Ampar with black sails flying full.
Dock workers stopped.
Spies watched.
A new name whispered in alleys, ports, villages.
Saloka.
On deck, the crew stood silent.
Rakai looked at them all.
"This is only the beginning."