The afternoon wind slipped into the veranda of the Lingga Regent's Office, carrying the salty sea scent and the cries of gulls circling the harbor.
From where he stood, Yudha Saloka gazed into the distance, toward the waters that once carried his younger brother away—and now, for some reason, knocked insistently at his memory in a way he disliked.
A scribe hurried into the working hall, face tense, report paper trembling in his hand.
"Your Excellency," he said, bowing.
"Report from Batu Ampar. Piracy on a Mataram Kuno merchant vessel. Perpetrators… a new group."
Yudha turned slowly. His gaze calm, yet alert.
"New group?"
"Yes, Excellency. They call themselves," the scribe swallowed, "Saloka Pirates."
For a moment, the air in the room seemed to freeze.
Yudha did not react immediately. He stepped to the large ulin-wood table, placed his palm on the Sriwijaya waters map. Trade routes, harbor marks, royal fleet symbols lay neatly spread. The name Saloka echoed softly in his mind, like distant iron being struck.
"Repeat it," he said finally.
"Saloka Pirates, Excellency. A previously nameless ship, now flying solid black with two crossed red swords. Movements fast, clean, disciplined."
Yudha raised an eyebrow. "Discipline is not a mark of rookie pirates."
"True, Excellency. They attack with tactics. No burning the merchant ship. No massacre of those who surrender. Only disable guards, take cargo, vanish."
A harbor officer stepped forward. "More worrying, Excellency, they defeated twenty-five Mataram soldiers. Zero crew losses."
Yudha exhaled long.
"Who's the captain?"
"Unknown. Witnesses mention a young man fighting with two long swords. His movements… unusual."
Two swords.
Yudha's fingers tightened on the map. Old memory crept in uninvited: the backyard of their father's house, morning sun, a boy swinging twin wooden blades until his palms bled.
"Father's swords?" Yudha thought.
"Excellency?" the officer's voice pulled him back.
Yudha shook his head faintly. "Many warriors use two swords."
But his voice lacked conviction.
He walked to the window, staring at the golden-glinting sea.
"What does the kingdom say?"
"Kadatuan Sriwijaya orders surveillance. Saloka not yet on major wanted list… but attention is on them."
Yudha gave a thin, bitter smile.
"Of course."
Old advisor Rambayan approached.
"You seem disturbed, Excellency."
"That name," Yudha said quietly. "It feels… deliberately chosen."
"Could be coincidence."
"At sea," Yudha turned, "there are no coincidences. Everything has a reason."
He returned to the table and signaled. "Tighten patrols around Lingga. No provocation. No pursuit."
The officer was surprised. "Excellency?"
"We are not amateur hunters," Yudha said calmly.
"If Saloka is smart, they'll avoid hot waters. We watch where the current takes them."
Rambayan nodded slowly. "And if they return?"
Yudha paused. In his mind, Rakai's face appeared, stubborn, hard, full of fire he could never extinguish.
"If they return," he said at last, "I want to know why they chose that name."
Afternoon became night. Lanterns lit along Lingga harbor, reflecting on dark water. Yudha stood alone, gazing at the black sea.
"If that's you, Rakai," he murmured, almost inaudible, "what are you seeking in this sea of blood?"
The sea wind answered with a long sigh, carrying secrets not yet ready to be revealed.
SHADOW FROM BAYAGIRI
On the eastern side of Rempang Island, in a narrow bay ringed by limestone cliffs, dozens of ships anchored tightly like a school of sharks waiting for first blood. Bonfires burned along the shore, casting orange light on patched hulls and rust stains. Tattered flags fluttered lazily, all bearing the same symbol: black fang dripping blood, emblem of Bayagiri Pirates.
On the largest ship, Mahadrona, a man lounged in a big wooden chair, feet propped on a half-open treasure chest. Shoulder-length hair tied carelessly. Face hard, scarred by old sword, spear, and fire wounds. At his waist hung a double-bladed sea axe, handle wrapped in stingray skin.
He was Captain Javasa Bayagiri.
"Repeat it," he said lazily, but his eyes sharp as an eagle's. "Slowly. I want every word."
A thin scout knelt before him, still panting from the rush. "Their name, Captain… Saloka Pirates."
Several rum-drinking crew fell silent.
"Saloka?" snorted a neck-tattooed man. "Not that noble family?"
"Unknown," the scout replied. "What's clear: they raided a Mataram merchant near Sriwijaya waters. Clean. Fast. Few casualties."
Javasa narrowed his eyes. "Where are they now?"
"Last seen… Batu Ampar. Batam Island."
The mood on Mahadrona's deck shifted instantly.
Batam.
That wasn't just a port. It was Bayagiri's hunting ground, the golden route where small and medium traders passed before daring the Malacca Strait. For years Javasa had extorted, raided, and slaughtered there unchallenged.
Deputy captain Rudra Sengkala stepped forward. Massive body, broad shoulders, short serrated spear in hand.
"Captain," he said low, "anyone using the name Saloka and daring to operate in Batam… that's an open challenge."
Javasa chuckled softly. "Challenge?" He stood, taking his sea axe. "No. It's an insult."
He walked to the ship's edge, staring into the dark sea.
"Ten thousand gold," he muttered. "That's my price. Bayagiri's price."
Several crew laughed roughly.
"And now," he continued, "a new pirate group, barely a month at sea, already dares to steal our prey."
Rudra bowed slightly. "Orders, Captain?"
Javasa turned, eyes blazing with hunt-lust.
"Gather the fleet. Five fast ships. We sail before dawn."
"Attack Batu Ampar?" one crew asked.
"No," Javasa answered with a cruel smile. "We hunt Saloka Pirates."
He raised his axe slightly, pointing toward distant islands.
"If they're smart, they'll run. If they're stupid… we hang their captain from our mast and parade him through every port."
Another crew laughed. "And the name?"
"That name," Javasa said coldly, "we erase from the sea forever."
The night wind blew harder, making Bayagiri flags snap wildly. In the distance, lightning flashed, illuminating blood-thirsty pirate faces.
None of them knew that on Batam Island, a freshly repaired war jong stood ready to sail, commanded by a young captain who had no intention of retreating.
Two forces now moved toward each other.
And the sea, as always, waited to see who was more worthy to spill blood and lives.