“Is that the ship?”

“Zoom in on the side of it. There! Right there! That’s the Vast Empire’s insignia. That’s our diplomat.”

“Geez, you’d think that they’d supply a dignitary with a nicer looking bird.”

“Hey, as long as they have the credits that they say they do, they could be flying a life pod in for all I care.”

The two men in the control center of asteroid CM-220 continued to stare at the display of the ship in its docking procedures, anticipating the payout they were about to receive. For two high-security prison guards the exact amount was never privy to them, but they both knew that with such a hubbub on the asteroid that it was more than everything they were worth combined. All that money for a washed up lunatic who blew up one too many things? Too good to be true.

One of the men held down a button on the control console and told his commander that the VE was docking. It was met with brief gratitude and not much more; everyone knew this was an important client and they had to be prepared.

Second Lieutenant Kami Sharpe (the rank implying that she was all orderly and clean) strode off of the vessel that had just arrived and greeted the welcoming committee that awaited her. She was dressed in her military uniform, a form-fitting olive green suit with dozens of shinies indicating just how important she was, but she was well past the soldiering life. Right then Sharpe was playing the part of ambassador for the Army, as indicated by the unusual sight of her hair tightly pulled back and up. She was carrying a datapad with the official documents for the release of AWOL soldier Vasili Rustam. Her second in command, Deznim, also wore a military uniform but it was devoid of any insignia designating rank or position.

“Welcome to CM-220, Lieutenant Sharpe,” the guard captain, who was identified by his slightly heavier, blue armor, said as formally as a military man could. “I’m sorry, but we’ll have to hold your weapons for you while you’re in the prison,” he continued as he saw the pistol hanging at Kami’s side.

“Excuse me, Captain, but I’m not walking into a merc base without any protection.” Her tone was confident, authoritative - her green eyes unyielding.

“I hope you had no problems with the docking procedures,” the Captain resigned after a brief staredown.

“The asteroid field gave us a little excitement at times, but I suppose that’s one of the reasons you’ve located your prison all the way out here.” Kami demonstrated her well-informed intelligence, she was hoping it would cut through some of the bullshit that was associated with her guise as diplomat. What followed was a customary and unwelcomed tour of the facility en route to what she actually wanted to see.

Kami, Dez, and their escort were in a shielded catwalk above an open area where prisoners were held. They looked down to see the pods that each individual prisoner was kept in lining the walls and a confrontation between two prisoners out of their cells. As it started to get physical, a turret popped out of the wall and hit both prisoners with stasis beams.

“Impressive,” Kami uttered diplomatically, ever wary of the situation.

The Captain seemed pleased that she remarked on the defenses and continued. “I’m sure you noticed the exterior of the facility on your way in. We have multiple orbital defense platforms as well as a full, pseudo-military force. I run a tight operation, and so far none of my prisoners have escaped. The prison was dug out of a crater in this asteroid, meaning that the only way in or out was by starship. Even if the prisoners get out of their cells, past the stasis fields and out of the station, they’d need a ship to leave.”

As they walked they passed several windowed rooms where prisoners could be witnessed being beaten. Deznim cringed a little at the brutality and barbarism, but moved onwards silently. “If my man is beaten like they are, Captain, don’t expect our deal to be in order,” Kami remarked as she passed by.

“Prisoner R812 is in the same condition as when he was transferred here. There will be no complications with the agreement.”

The catwalk continued until it reached a lift that went down to the prison floor. Most of the escort remained up on the catwalk and pulled out their rifles, setting up in lines of fire as a pod was taken off the wall and placed on the floor. Both the lift and the pod arrived at the same time and the escort that remained around Kami and Deznim raised their pistols at the door. The Captain was the only one unarmed at the moment, and he walked up to the door of the pod and entered a code. Alarms started ringing throughout the facility and orange strobe lights spun into life. The atmosphere was so tense that Kami almost felt compelled to pull out her pistol. Laser sights from the catwalk dance along the pod door as it began to open. Light poured in on to the prisoner.

“Hell… you’re lookin’ Sharpe,” Vasili said in his alto voice that was raspy and smooth from the years of soaking in whiskey, completely nonchalant and unsurprised to see Kami. He was completely naked, hunched over on the toilet with a cigarette in his mouth and squinting at light which he hadn’t seen much of in days. “Get it? Sharpe!” He laughed maniacally at his own, childish humor. The Captain tossed a jumpsuit at him, not amused. “Ooooow you’re no fun!” V exclaimed, muffled by the clothing.

“Tell your men to put their weapons down, Captain,” Kami ordered of the man. Everyone complied and Kami approached the cell, in which Vasili was clothing himself. “How you been, V?” she queried in a more informal tone, away from the ears of the mercs.

Vasili squinted again as he zipped up his jumpsuit. “You know, this really isn’t the nicest prison I’ve been in.”

“Saying that from experience, huh?” Kami cracked a smirk.

The prisoner sat back down on the toilet, which apart from the bed was the only fixture in the cell. “Command’s getting better at tracking me down. Only took ‘em twelve days this time.”

“What if I said it was me who was looking for you and not Command?” Kami shifted her weight to one side and crossed her arms.

“What if I said that I don’t give a damn and I’m not going anywhere with you?” Vasili was making a statement more than posing a question. He rose from the toilet and spoke angrily, his mood suddenly changing.

“Well,” Kami said, slowly making her way to his bed and sitting down casually, “then I’d say that this operation is practically a slaving business and you’re my property now.

V sat back down with his legs spread wide, digging his elbow into his leg and his fist into his face. He eyed Kami suspiciously, who was still smirking deviously. “What are you playing at, Sharpe?”

“Come up to the holding rooms with me and I’ll fill you in. You can make your decision there.” Kami put her arms behind her and leaned back, letting her suit do all the convincing she needed. She knew V was susceptible to teasing, even if V knew that she was only.

“Well, if you insist...”


The complement of prison guards left Kami, Deznim, and Vasili in a holding room alone. Presumably there were no cameras or microphones in the room, allowing for what needed to be said to be said. Vasili was still feeling skeptical about this whole deal: Kami wasn’t a part of the unit who was dedicated to bringing him back from the various prisons he’d gotten himself into. What interested V the most was the strange bird-man standing quietly in the corner. He couldn’t take his eyes of Dez.

“We’re not taking you back to the Army, V,” Kami started, pulling the clip out of her hair and letting it down. His attention was drawn away from the alien to the woman in uniform undoing her hair.

“You couldn’t possibly have enough money to buy me after all you must’ve spent getting your hair that way.”

“Well, here’s the thing… We’re not really buying you.” Continuing the trend of de-uniforming herself, Kami pulled up her suit pants to reveal her legs, which were lined with a special pistol-harness. She piled the six weapons on to the table and slid her pants back down. Needless to say, V hadn’t noticed the weaponry being presented. “You’re right. Osk Company doesn’t have the funds to spring you properly. So, we’re gonna do what we do best-“

“Woah, woah, woah. Osk Company?” V interrupted. “That where you picked up this guy?” pointing to Dez. The Ryn stepped forward and took two of the pistols from the table.

“I am Deznim. I work for Kami. It is a pleasure to meet you, Vasili. Kami’s praised you many times over.”

Lifting an eyebrow, Vasili shifted his gaze back to Kami. “We’ve entered the privateering business, V. You remember Lieutenant Battlemont? Snipes. Well, he fancies himself a King now. He’s gotten a bunch of us together and assembled himself a little fleet,” she too grabbed a pistol from the table and stuck it in her waistline, pulling out the larger gun from the holster on her side.

Vasili picked up a pistol, examined it, and put it back down. “This is crazy. And I know crazy.”

“Clearly you’re unconvinced,” Kami said as she put down the datapad on the table. “There are you records in the VE. The originals. It’s my gift to you. Do whatever you want with it, but if you don’t get on my ship I’m going to take them and make you a tenured soldier, if you know what I’m saying.”

Half scared by the prospect of being a soldier for life, half turned on by Kami and her offer of piratical intent, Vasili scooped up the datapad and quickly went over it. He smiled big shoved it into a pocket. “Okay!” he exclaimed, satisfied with the offer and picking up the remaining three pistols. “Lead the way.”

What excitement! Gunplay, cacophonies, adrenaline, shouting, running, and SPACE! The skepticism that had caused Vasili to hesitate in the first place was long forgotten. The uncertainty of the situation was now replaced by curiosity and anticipation; the curiosity of what Kami’s offer entailed and the anticipation of more thrills to follow. If breaking out of a high security prison was the start of his career as a pirate, V couldn’t wait to see what the entirety of the duties brought.

There was a sizzle just past V’s left ear which made him stumble. Kami had turned and was grabbing him by the collar of his jumpsuit, tossing him down another corridor and out of the line of fire. She yelled “Go! Get on the ship!” to him as she herself ducked out of the main hall, leaving behind some suppressive fire to cover their tails. This all happened so quickly to V, who had gotten caught up in the thought of his future. He was out of touch. Stay in the game, Vasili, a voice in his head distinct from his own reminded him, you’ll have time for celebrations after you are not dead.

The dock was just up ahead, Deznim charged forward at two guards who were facing fire from the opposite direction. As V and Dez got closer, the mercs looked up and aimed to fire. The Ryn dove into a forward slide, dodging the blasts, lifted both of his pistols up and shot each in the chest twice before planting his tail and hopping back up. “Come on!” he called back to V, who wasn’t far behind. “Get on the Zephyr and get it primed. Cockpit is on the second level at the head of the ship. I’ll wait for Kami. Jacobs will help you out!”

Vasili ran past Dez who was now heading in the opposite direction. The soon-to-be pilot kicked a downed guard as he passed with a triumphant “hah!” At the end of the hall was another strobe light that emitted the repeating message of “Code Orange!” and each time it illuminated the docking tunnel the silhouette of a man could be seen poking out behind a stack of crates. There were several guards strewn about with blaster marks all over them, mowed down by Jacobs as they tried to lock down the ship.

“Rustam?!” he called out as V approached.

Assuming the man to be Jacobs, “Let’s get this heap fired up!” answered the call.

“We’ve got a problem, Rustam-“

“Hey, just call me V,” the pilot released through heavy breaths, cool and ignorant to the gravity of what was going on around him.

“Well we’ve got a problem V,” Jacobs repeated in stress. “They’ve grounded the Zephyr. Magnetically locked it to the dock. I would’ve gotten it all taken care of but I’ve been held down by those goons.”

Jacobs was referring to the guards strewn about the hallway, which he impressively managed to care of himself. He wasn’t large or intimidating or even muscular, in fact he seemed kind of weak and undeveloped muscularly, but he held a huge gun in his bony hands. Dez and Kami came sprinting down the hall as Jacobs was explaining the situation. “Captain-“ the man started, cut off by Kami.

“Just fix it, Jacobs!” again Kami demonstrated just how informed and intelligent she was as a pirate. Her sixth-sense as a Captain alerted her to the trouble that was inevitable to happen every once and a while. Jacobs wasted no time pulling out his slicing tools and hooking up to the computer that was at the end of the docking tunnel. Deznim kneeled behind the crates, focused intently on the hallway if any more guards were to come.

Kami sat down for a breather on one of the crates, leaning the rifle up against her seat. “So, you wanna be my pilot, V? I could use you right about now. Jacobs is one hell of a slicer but can’t work his way around a flight control computer for shit.”

Vasili didn’t even have to consider the question. “I at least owe you for bustin’ me out. Why don’t I fly you to where you need to go and we’ll discuss this on the way.” He had full intent on joining Kami’s crew but his playful nature wouldn’t allow her the satisfaction of hearing that. Chances are she knew as soon as she saw V in the cell that he would accept.

“Deal,” she smiled between breaths. “Jacobs?”

The slicer was jamming away at his datapad, working through firewalls and counter-measures, but shortly unplugged himself from the terminal. He wound his cord up and stuffed his tools back into his clothes. “Magnetic seals are down, we should be goo-“ Jacob’s brains splattered the wall.

“Shit!” Vasili yelled as he ducked into the docking tunnel. Kami too was surprised, grabbing her rifle and sliding to the floor in a quick motion. Dez fired aimlessly down the long hallway, trying to ensure that the assailant wasn’t making his way closer. “Cockpit!” was all Kami needed to say, pointing down the docking tunnel. Vasili scrambled to his feet and sprinted towards the ship.

The Zephyr was an old ship with significantly upgraded innards. There was a large variation of parts that Vasili immediately noticed as he ran through; ranging from shiny and new to rusted or just plain missing. Most impressive of all was the upgraded drive core, a massive column of sheer power in the center of the ship which was emanating a soft blue glow that indicated it was unpowered. For a moment V was caught standing still and staring as it was a pretty sight.

Right then he felt that there was something special about this ship, something that made him feel less like a drunk maniac – or maybe it was just the drive core frying his brain. In any case, in contrast to his previous laziness, V felt compelled to be dutiful. He wanted to fly, he wanted to serve. Of course it wasn’t the Armed Forces so there was less red tape, in fact there was hardly any tape at all (save for on some of the pipes), but he felt the desire to be a grunt, to take orders.

… Which in this instance was mostly self-preservation talking. He’d change his mind once things quieted down. For now, he had a promise to fulfill and a day to save.

Just before entering the cockpit were the two weapon systems stations and the cockpit itself had four crew stations; one each for the pilot and his co-pilot which controlled all ship functions and two auxiliary stations that controlled all other functions besides weapons and flight. Scattered among the consoles were lit and unlit buttons in all sorts of colors indicating which functions were powered and dimly lit screens with various critical information from sensors on the ship. The seats at the stations were worn down and old, but the consoles themselves were new and familiar. Obviously Kami, or rather Snipes, had spent a pretty penny making this old ship young again.

As the pilot flung himself to the right into his place in the cockpit an over head display descended into his view, pedals and a steering column ascended from the floor, and his chair sank and slid forward. The feminine voice of the Captain echoed from an intercom. “Why isn’t my girl in the air, V? Dez and I can only hold them off for so long!” followed by the sounds of blasters.

With one hand holding down the intercom button and the other bashing more, flipping switches, and turning dials, V replied “Gimme a sec, alright? Gotta figure this scheme out. Don’t you have a droid?” Lights popped on all over the ship accompanied by a low hum. Engines powering on, weapon systems calibrating, life support active, shields up…

There was no response on the intercom as Kami and Dez were busy holding off the prison guards. “Alright Sharpe, get your good-lookin’ ass up here. I need someone on guns. I’m closing off the airlock, so get inside!” He could only hope that they would be in when the airlock sealed.

A meter on the over head indicated the both forward and rear thrusters were powered up, which meant it was time to go. V flicked a few more switches to his left to disengage from the dock and the stars out the viewport began to drift from one side to the other. Proximity sensors indicated there was nothing between the Z and the asteroid field. Gently the pilot pushed on the accelerator.

“Damn this thing’s got juice!” he exclaimed, feeling how smooth and sleekly the ship accelerated. “You can fly circles around most other ships, can’t you?”

By this time, Kami and Dez, drenched in sweat and panting, were barreling up the ramp into the cockpit. Both had shed their weapons and Kami had shed her suit jacket leaving a tight black leather vest which only did half the job a normal vest is supposed to.

“What do you need?” Deznim asked as he hopped into the Co-Pilot seat which slid into position minus the overhead display and flight controls. Kami was busy just outside of the cockpit, putting on a helmet with a visor and microphone that would enable her to communicate with the cockpit and control the weapons.

“Well we gotta get through this asteroid field and- oh shit!” Dec darted his eyes to an alarm that was going off on the overheard. “They’re locking onto us. They have orbital defenses?”

“Big ones!” Kami came in on the intercom again. Indeed, as she said that, five different nearby “asteroids” began to spin, revealing the massive cannons that were hidden from view.

“How light on your toes are you, Dez?” V asked metaphorically of the Ryn’s aptitude as he diverted power from one set of the redundant engines and into the forward shields.

“There’s a reason why Kami keeps me around, especially with the kind of dolts you find in pirate operations.”

“Hahaha, perfect!” V laughed both gleefully and insanely, for his plan would involve great deals of risk. “Project the movement of the asteroids and find me a vector that’s clear for hyperspeed. Oh, and also power up the hyperdrive. The backup hyperdrive,” he thought it out, the main would be unnecessary, they just needed to clear the asteroid field for now. “Yeah, use the backup and divert the power from the main to the forward shields.”

Just as he issued the order, a green light came on indicating that the hyperdrive was ready. The pilot looked over to his co-pilot and gave a frown that said ‘not bad’. Dez had already made the adjustments. Behind them, Kami was blasting the Twin Ion Cannon at the asteroids, hoping to disrupt the enemy’s weapons. “Remind me when we get back to the Locker that we need to make the blaster cannon into a turret, Deznim,” she said into the comm, displeased that the main, more destructive cannons were immobile on her ship.

As the course was being plotted, V pushed the throttle and the Zephyr raced forward. The threat of the asteroid-cannons was too much. If they got through the shields the ship would be shred apart. Vasili stressed to Dez the importance of acquiring the flight pattern when the cannons started firing, causing the ship to jolt and shake with every hit. “The shields are droppin’ too quickly! 16% a hit!” V urged, seriously upset for the first time that day, “C’mon, Dez!”

“This ion cannon is doing shit against those guns!” Kami, flustered, alerted her pilot.

“I’ve got it!” Deznim entered the trajectory into the computer, but the good news was soured. Cannons started blasting away planet-side, and with the power focused on the front the rear engines were demolished. Kami, quick thinking, tore her weapons-helmet off and slammed the emergency close button above the ramp to the second level, sectioning off the ship so that the vacuum being created in the lower level would stay there.

In spite of the damage Vasili was nowhere close to being dead. Not that day. He was getting out of there, and with the flight path he cut the engines and activated the hyperdrive, hoping that Dez was as smart as he claimed. One foot off of a good line and they’d be left spinning into an asteroid missing half of their hull. The viewport began to blur as the drive kicked in, and milliseconds later they were out of danger.

The ship shook, however, and lost power. All the displays were showing significant damage to the hyperdrive power lines. It was a miracle that the Z even made it to warp. They were adrift, but thousands of lightyears away from CM-220.

Kami let her breath go. Deznim pushed his chair back and sighed. Vasili was laughing triumphantly until Kami spoke.

“So… you know how to repair ships, right?”

Apparently the previous owners had found the hot, metal floors of the fuel cell closets to be more homely than the crew cabins, as there was a makeshift mattress out of blankets and several items of a personal nature left stranded. Among the whiskey bottles of various remaining volumes that Kami had mentioned were multiple holodisks, scraps of metal, and, tossed unceremoniously between fuel cells, a jumpsuit that was less ‘fugitive’ and more ‘spacer’. It was ratty and greasy with patches of businesses and places V had never heard of, but it fulfilled a purpose and had character to boot.

Clunks overhead indicated that Kami was now traversing the exterior of the vessel on her mission to remove trace of their history. While the Captain was having fun outside, V decided he would have his own little adventure inside. While rerouting the horribly damaged electrical system to get the hyperdrive working again he noticed that most of the flooring was removable to allow access to maintenance shafts. Normally V considered himself too good looking to be crawling through greased-up sauna tunnels, but seeing as how he had just inherited a vagrant jumpsuit standards for self-hygiene were at an all-time low.



Under the humming and occasional beep of the cockpit - in which Deznim was plotting courses, altering flight histories, and studying space around Sluis Van - the clunks from maintenance shafts and Kami’s boots echoed in from above and below. The Ryn closed his mind off to the racket as it slowly became more annoying. He was in an almost meditative state as he poured over the information on the holocharts, the orangish glow reflecting as a twinkle in his half-open eyes; he simply stared at the revolving hologram of Sluis Van.

Then, most definitely above the ambience of the cockpit, a startled cry echoed through the innards of the ship accompanied by a loud crash. Had Dez’s eyes not made its way towards the sound and his tail flipped, it might’ve appeared as though he hadn’t noticed at all. Despite his discreet motions he returned his gaze back to Sluis Van, brushing off his grunt of a pilot and pulling up the flight lanes and entering them into the Nav Computer.



Kami swiftly removed her helmet to the tune of “Airlock Pressurizing”. She was wholly glad to be back in any sort of atmosphere. She was panting and sweating profusely, strands of her long brown hair sticking to her face. V looked in through the viewport of the airlock door, thinking that traversing a platform in space must take a ton of effort and knowing that he couldn’t answer any questions because he had never been through any sort of effort like that himself. The Captain flung the special blow torch she used to the side so she could strip herself of the bulky EVO suit creating her own personal vacuum. She had used it to blast away (or rather cover up) the paint that let any onlookers know who they were dealing with. In place of the VE’s decal was now an additional scorch mark.

Vasili smiled dopeishly through the glass as Kami spotted him and snarled. Her pilot’s smiled broadened as she began to strip her suit off even though the outfit underneath was entirely unattractive and probably drenched with sweat. She walked over to the window, smiling (obviously acting, V knew), and clicked a button to the side of the door to activate the intercom.

“No peeking,” she said with the most playful face she could muster. The viewport became opaque in front of a frowning V.

When she had fully removed herself from the encumbrance of the suit, she opened the viewport again and, fully expecting Vasili to be pressing his face against the glass and leaving his drool mark, jumped back at the site of a skull staring her down. She composed herself quickly, noticing the hand behind it holding it up.

Hiding next to the door was her pilot who brought the skull to his face and in his best falsetto said “love me!” to which the Captain smacked the skull out of his hands. It shattered as it hit the floor causing Vasili to grimace.

“We are no longer affiliated with the Empire,” Kami said in a way only a boss could say to her peons. “I am confident that Dez has been hard at work while you were…” she glanced him over, noticing his forearms and knees covered with grease, “crawling through the maintenance shafts. Really? I know you’re a filthy man, but you’re a space-rat now?” She rubbed some grease off of his arm with a finger and proceeded to draw whiskers on his face. Vasili was not happy with how cute she was being, and he glared. Big time.

Feeling emasculated and belittled, V attempted to pull out some sort of defense. “I was working! SO hard! Fixing stuff. And… meeting people. This guy that you so mercilessly just killed let me borrow his jumper.” The fluster and effort in his voice, not to mention his ridiculous reasoning, had no effect on his intuitive Captain.

“Get to work, spacerat!” she laughed triumphantly as she walked off.



The Zephyr pulled in and magnetically locked itself to one of the numerous space stations orbiting Sluis Van. This particular one served as a pit stop between two of the biggest ship yards the planet kept. It was ideal to find spare parts but not stick out. The station was huge, probably millions of spacers staying on it at any given time. Easy for a raggedy group of pirates to get in and get out without drawing attention.

Kami, clean and back in her leather vest that V ‘admired’ so much, led the two of her cronies off of her ship and onto the station. As soon as they stepped out of the entry tunnel, though, they were stopped by a customs officer and two heavily armed droids. Deznim crossed his arms and stared, Vasili held his hands on his hips, right above his pistol. Kami played the diplomat.

“Can I help you, officer?” she asked threateningly.

The twi’lek man sounded jaded. “We’ve received a bounty on a 720 Class Light Freighter that broke out of a prison not too far from here. It details that it was captained by a woman named Kami Sharpe and an unknown male alien and it would be transporting a fugitive,” he looked right at V when he said this. “We’ve taken a look at the flight history. You came right up the Rimma from the Core?”

Deznim spoke with clear brevity, “Yes”. Kami followed that up with reassurance that he was her navigator.

“… and you’re carrying sweetener to Eriadu? That’s correct?” the officer continued probing.

“Well we dropped it off already,” Kami answered, “on our flight out of orbit we were attacked. Luckily our hyperdrive was functioning enough to get us here. We need some repairs, as you can see,” she pointed out of the large viewport nearby to her blaster-scorched ship. The officer looked skeptical.

“Your ship isn’t registered. You know hardly any freighter that isn’t registered is something other than a smuggler or a pirate, could get you into trouble.”

“Fully aware of that, officer,” Kami said, getting annoyed. “It’s a new bird. Or… it was a new bird. We have a pension of attracting belligerent types.” V smiled and scratched his head.

The officer was unconvinced but satisfied. He warned Kami one more time about registering her ship and staying out of trouble before letting them go.

“They’ve got a bounty out for you, Kami,” Deznim said once they were sufficiently away from any official ears. “We should come up with an alias for now.”

Kami smiled as she proceeded onwards. “A girl needs her bad reputation, Dez, and my ship needs a reputation. Period.” The thought of rumors going around about the fastest ship in the Outer Rim being hers excited the newly anointed captain.

“Maybe, it’s not our reputation that we need to be worrying about right now, Sharpe,” Vasili interrupted her good thoughts with a curious statement. She turned to see V staring at a row of holoscreens playing the latest news on the station. Currently projecting was the mugshot of somebody Kami knew very well.

“… the big news of today,” the female reporter on screen announced, “comes from Sluis Control itself. They posted the largest bounty in this sector’s history for Moelik Hond, otherwise known as ‘Bloodhound’. Hond has been terrorizing the deep-space docking stations around Sluis Van for weeks now, committing crimes from petty theft and racketeering to grand larceny and murder. He has been able to elude Sluis Control since they impounded his space vessel after the first crime he was caught committing, and after spending vast amounts of resources trying to track down this vigilante they have thrown ‘Bloodhound’ to the wolves. We go now to our correspondent in the field, Jalim Gurry, who has the public’s reaction to this. Jalim, are people finding it ironic that ‘Bloodhound’, which has traditionally been an animal used for tracking, cannot be tracked himself?...”

The whole room was watching the report. A bounty like that would attract some dangerous people. Everyone would want to be in on it; those already on the station as well as from neighboring systems.

V looked around. Many people were licking their chops and visually humping the monetary figure on the screen. Vasili looked over to Kami, and with his eyebrows raised in thought uttered “huh”.

Bloodhound ducked his head around the corner, seeing nothing new he darted into the concealing shadow of a doorframe. There was nothing welcoming him. These shipyards were small, in comparison, there was no where to hide for him. Even the shadiest of characters around these parts weren't willing to shelter him, for any amount.

Moelik Hond was not a big man, average height, regular build, his body was hard muscle, but not large, he was thing and sinewy. He moved with a killers grace as he leaped into a dumpster, slipping under a bag of leaking garbage. It was humiliating and he hated it, his red eyes glowing , with the oxygen rich atmosphere his eyes shone around the cracks in his round sunglasses covering, even the leather shades on the side couldn't help hide the glow. And he had no idea.

He could hear people walking past him, his hand tightened on the Enforcer slugthrower concealed under his denim vest, it had once been a jacket but the sleeves had long ago disappeared, showing arms that held little fat and part of the black tribal tattoo that covered his dark back and arms.

Hond had just wanted to escape, to be free, to be free of that hateful old man. He had plied his trade on the first planet he found, how was he to know it was not the ideal choice.

They hunted him, again, again he was hunted. It was like a bad holo-vid he'd seen a million times. He'd done this a million times it seemed. He grimaced and shifted his body, the red and black hair stuck to his face. He hadn't bathed in a long time and the hair easily stuck to he sweaty face.

Hond fell into a restless sleep. He dreamed little, but when he did they were short snippets of madness and violence, he shifted constantly in his sleep. He saw himself die a couple times and do things he found reproachable, there were few things that disturbed is severly lacking morals.

He woke with a start. He'd done very little really, he didn't know how he'd gotten slumped with all this bad noise. He hated whatever it was they'd done. He'd simply been muscle, but somehow as soon as the small racket he'd been working for found the heat they had dropped the whole racket on his head. He had just been muscle, he had just been a killer, he had only hurt people.

His mind knew there was a way out, a simple way out. Just call him. He shook his red and black hair, that was not an option. He had to escape, he had to be on his own again.

On the stations there wasn't really a night and day, technically there as, but in truth it didn't matter. So Hond made his way through the station as best he could to what could only be a tavern. He needed a drink.

He hurried past the occupants, finding a dark corner to lounge in. This tavern was far from most of the traffic, far from the ports, far from the ships. He didn't like that. He needed to run, he needed to dodge and jump and run.

However for now he would comfort himself with strong drink, rum by the glass, gulped down like a man dieing of thirst. He wasn't a pirate, he was a gunman. He was a man with a pistol and a knowledge of how to use it. He downed another glass and let the drink burn his throat and the tingle take his limbs. He hated so many things. He hated so strongly. Most of all, he hated being controlled.

I'll not be some piece on a dejarik board, I will not be a pawn in a game of madness.

Bloodhound gulped down another glass, the alcohol blurring his vision, he knew he needed to stop, but at this point he didn't care, he just need to relax, he needed to let some of the frustration dissipate. He needed. . .peace.

He drifted quietly to sleep in that back booth, once again. He had no idea how much time had passed, he had been drinking and watching, his pistol set on the table, once again he was drifting towards slumber and he could not help himself.

When he awoke there was nothing to tell the bar from how it had been when he'd drifted off, he couldn't tell if it'd been minutes or hours or days since then. It seemed to him that something had changed though, he tried to blink the headache away, he tried to concentrate.

No matter what he did his head seemed to be splitting, the spiced rum had worked it's magic on him, and he couldn't tell what was wrong. Couldn't tell until he managed to notice a scarred rodian glaring at him.

He cast the rodian a sidelong glance, a glance he couldn't see through Hond's sunglasses. Hond grimaced and stumbled to his feet, trying to make his way to the door. He didn't make it far.

A weight wrapped around him and he spun, reaching for his pistol, but it was no use, he knew it was empty. He tried to fight, knees, feet, teeth, all of it assaulted the enemy, all of it tried to destroy whatever had pulled him to the ground, but in the end something struck his head and he found he couldn't see anymore, and in a moment that seemed like eternity he lost his consciousness.

As soon as Vasili strolled away with his orders he felt opportunity knock. Hidden among the countless unnamed faces there was a clear way out of the situation he found himself (bound to Kami and Snipes). Once again the fugitive felt the familiar call of having no ties to the Vast Empire. He wondered whether or not he could survive for long on his own. The largest problem facing his abusive, consumptive mannerisms was lack of funding. That’s why he preferred prisons: food, shelter, security, and solitude on someone else’s dime.

V stopped at a viewport and took some time to stare at the ships coming and going from the station. The idea of flying was liberating but at the same time he understood that anyone could find him the same way he would escape. There’s no place in the galaxy where I can let myself deteriorate without being bothered. Not when I’m this poor, anyways. Just look at Hond. He tried to make it on his own. Now he’s racked up the biggest bounty the Sluis Sector had ever seen – and he is good at being a criminal, too. Aw, shit.

Still, the allure of freedom was strong. He harbored a suspicion that Kami was playing him. There was no reason for her to be as ‘friendly’ as she had been. V was a pretty good judge of character and he suspected that she was only acting flirty to get him off his guard. There were glimpses of stress and anger and fear behind her ruse. She wasn’t that good to hide it all.  She was still a captain and that job comes with some heavy concerns. Perhaps being a privateer was more dangerous than being a foot soldier and she was trying to play this down so Vasili wouldn’t book before the fighting. Then again, she must’ve known that V had the occasional murderous streak and that he had no problems with blood. She also must’ve known that V was desperate; maybe she intended to unfairly cut him from any rewards they would pick up.

Or maybe she wasn’t being coy and Vasili was just full of himself and coming up with reasons to cheese it from Osk.

She thinks she can play you, buddy!

Yeah, yeah, I know. Shut up.

You’re not gonna let that happen to us, are you?

No. I just don’t feel overly thrilled to head back to prison any time soon. Maybe in a while.

So what happens when she screws you?

That won’t happen. If Kami keeps this up, she’ll be the one who’ll be played. I ain’t gonna be screwed over. Why don’t you guys invest a little faith in me, hm?

The dialogue in V’s head was convincing. ‘Captain Sharpe’ may’ve been owed a favor by him for staging the prison break, but once that was repaid anything was fair game in V’s book. He didn’t owe anything to the Company or Snipes. If it turned out that this would be as lucrative as Kami claimed then perhaps he’d stick around for the pirate’s life. If not… well, less than a pirate’s life for Kami for playing him.

For now, though, V was content with paying back his debt to his captain and seeing his options. He wandered around a bit on his goal to find repairs. Hopefully Dez was being more productive than him because V wasn’t really paying attention to the different neon signs that advertised ship repairs. The different warehouses attracted him more; mostly because he knew that they didn’t really need a full repair service (one that would probably try to rip them off), just some cheap parts that he could install himself. Kami would definitely need someone adept at repairs once they got back into friendly territory, but for now Vasili’s luck should carry the Z home.

“Hey! Guy! You’re a spacer, right?”

Vasili turned to find a young, green twi’lek, no more than 16 years old, right in his face. He drew his hand away from his pistol hidden in his jumpsuit (which he instinctively reached to when he felt someone come up behind him) and instead reached for another cigarette. Cool down, V.

“The hell do you want, kid?” he said with his cigarette in his lips.

She was a travelled-looking alien, probably an orphan or a runaway, and most definitely streetsmart to survive this long in the galaxy on her own. “You look like a spacer. Maybe even a captain. Definitely someone who knows his way around a ship. It’s your jumpsuit.”

“My what?”

She smiled and motioned with her hands at his outfit. V looked down and remembered that he was still wearing the dead, previous owner’s outfit. The different starship companies’ patchwork all over the suit didn’t really give him the proper anonymousness that was desired. V took a moment to look her over, noticed the overstuffed bags and turned away.

“So you’re some kind of salesman?” he kid, not giving the girl any credit for her intentions.

“Depends on what you want to buy.” She’s a sweet talker. Probly is a salesperson after all. “Me… I’m lookin’ to buy passage to any system but this one. Where you headed?”

“Not anywhere a little girl should be,” V started to walk off, uninterested with this twi’lek.

“Aw com’on! I can take care of myself! Just name your price; I got connections! Want to meet somebody? I know everyone, I can introduce you to anybody.”

V had to stop her there. The girl was growing on his nerves and he had other things to do “Listen kid, unless you can pay me or provide something useful, you need to find some other babysitter to help you run away from mommy and daddy.”

“Well… I do know the passcode to Ryder’s Warehouse. I usually go there to grab some food, but he’s got all sorts of starship parts back there. I can get you in and out in five minutes. Won’t even realize he’s missing the stuff.”

This intrigued V. He decided very quickly that as first act as a pirate he would liberate these ship parts from this Ryder character. The girl knew how to sell it to a stranger, alright. “Alright kid, you’ve got a deal. We’re only makin’ one stop though: Osk 91. Heard of it?”

The girl looked confused. “No.”

V smiled triumphantly and boisterously at her response. “Good! Not exactly a place for a girl like yourself but you might do alright with that attitude. Now grab those bags, let’s head to Ryder’s. You smoke, uh…?” he fished for a name, shameless in his exploitation of youth.

“I’m Eyan. And no, those things will kill you.”

“Christ Eyan, every woman in my life thinks they’re my mother already, don’t need you as well.”



“Where the hell is that little tramp?! Eyan’s been gone for days without getting someone in here.”

“Don’t worry boss, she’ll be back with someone who’s got access to a ship. She’s never let us down before.”

“I just don’t like her taking this long. The warehouse business is dying. She probably brings her friends in when I’m not around and steals my stock. One day I’ll gut her from head to-“

“Hey Ryder! Eyan’s back and she’s got one in the trap.”

Ryder and his two grunts ran to the railing of the balcony to see the energy field up and another helpless sap stuck in a cage with his ship parts. He looked like a fool with three hyperdrive coils snaked around his body in different manners. 

“Aw hell,” the prisoner said as he lit a cigarette. “Should’ve learned not to trust girls by now. Or kids. ESPECIALLY girl kids. Shit.”

--Minutes Earlier--

“The Zephyr, huh? Sounds like a piece of shit to me.”

“Then why don’t you just let me go? I’ll pay you for these parts and there doesn’t have to be any mess.”

“Hunh. Sorry fella, but business isn’t too hot right now. I’ve gotta take what I can get. Now. About those access codes?”

Ryder held a datapad up to the energy field and started a recorder. Vasili glanced up towards the balcony to see that there were three men with rifles trained on him. This is a sticky situation, buddy. You’re still a devil at cards right? Play ‘em. Lay ‘em down and make the ladies cry.

“As much as I would like to not be shot at, I’m sorry to say that I don’t have the access codes,” and now we just wait for lady luck to bend over for us.

Ryder looked rather silly disappointed in his cheap suit. “You’re saying you’re the pilot and you don’t have the access codes? Fella, we WILL shoot you.” This guy’s a sleazeball.

“Look, I’m not the pilot. I’m Second Mechanic… I don’t even have my own hydrospanner yet,” V shrugged and let out a chuckle. That’s it V, charm your way into Luck’s pants.

The captor now looked enraged, he paced up and down, stopped, and waved someone over from out of view. A fourth thug dragged a wriggling Eyan over and threw her to the floor. She curled up and started whimpering. Ryder drew a pistol and held trained it on her. “You sure you don’t know the access codes? Think real hard.”

This guy’s a big-time asshole. Vasili grinded his teeth between clenched lips. That girl would be a beautiful, smart woman in a couple years. A terrible, terrible waste. There was no getting out of this for either of them if he didn’t comply right now. “Alright, ok. Put the gun down and we’ll talk.”

“I’m down talking. Tell me the codes,” Ryder cocked his blaster, holding the datapad up again.

“Hey! Listen!” V’s voice elevated at the motion Ryder made, “I told you I don’t know the codes, but I can bring you to the captain! Just put the gun down!” He instinctively slammed his fist against the energy field and received a jolt, sending him reeling backwards. All the goons laughed at his passionate stupidity. His bluff had to pay off – he was selling it big time with the self-masochism.

“Screw off! You know the codes and you’re gonna give ‘em to me! We ain’t goin’ nowhere to conduct business except the back of my warehouse.”

“Alright, alright!” Vasili began to panic in his head, maintaining his cool composure outside. He thought about giving the codes, but he had a hunch that would just end with him and Eyan dead anyways. He needed backup. He needed Kami. She would be able to get him out of this, whether she knew she was doing it or not. “I don’t have the codes, but I do have Hond.”

“What?” Ryder was confused and intrigued by the statement.

“The Z was going to transport Hond out of the system. He’s a friend of my captain’s. I can bring you to them both. You’ll have a ship and the largest bounty the system has to offer.”

The criminal stood in thought at the proposal, his expression turning to a devious smile. “Alright, ‘Second Mechanic’. You bring us to Hond and the person with the codes and you and Eyan here get to leave this station in an escape pod. I don’t ever want to see you here again, you hear me? That fuckhead Hond is trouble enough, I don’t need losers like you stealing from me. You should be thankful that I’m feeling merciful and giving you the chance to keep your sorry, pathetic, miserable life.” Ryder slammed a nearby panel and the energy field dropped. “Let’s go.”

The goon who brought in Eyan went behind Vasili and shoved a rifle into his back, urging him forward.

“Would one of you come get this little bitch? We wanna make sure our insurance policy doesn’t run off on us. You hear that?” Ryder slapped Vasili on the cheek, “You don’t deliver us to the codes and Hond, I’ll make you watch her exit from an escape pod chute without an escape pod. You got me?”


--Seconds Earlier--   

“Alright, that’s her. That’s the captain,” Vasili nodded to Kami, who was marching with Dez and Hond towards the docking bays. Alright V, what’s the plan? Those idiots didn’t even frisk you. Pull the pistol on them? Too much of a scene. Maybe they’re as dumb as they seem…

“Damn shame that we’re gonna have to shoot such a fine lookin’ lady,” As if on cue, Ryder and his four goons pulled out their weapons. “Alriiiight! I can’t believe it! That’s Hond! Let ‘em have it boys!” and the shitstorm commenced. Civilians ran everywhere as the firing squad took liberties at their targets. Vasili dove on top of Eyan just in case these trigger happy idiots decided to rampage.

“You friggin’ lunatics!” V yelled over the gun fire, “This isn’t a place for a fire fight!”  There was return fire involved – V couldn’t tell if it was luck or skill – and two of the goons fell. The three remaining stopped firing in bewilderment, not having taken down a single target. “They’ve evened it up now, Ryder. In fact, with Hond over there I think it’s a little lopsided.”

Ryder grunted knowing that V was right. He grabbed the ‘Second Mechanic’ by the collar and threw him forward. “You go get what you promised me. I’ll shoot the girl if you pull anything, and then I’ll shoot you, maggot!”

Nodding to himself, V got up and walked forward. By now they weren’t any civilians around. These guys really were idiots. They were standing in the open, just asking to be shot down. Most likely Sluis Control stayed out of the fight because they recognized Hond and would rather risk some two-bit criminals than themselves. That meant that the Z’s crew had fifth freedom in defending themselves, and boy was V itching to use it. He eyed the pistol hidden in his jumpsuit.

Clearly he was at a disadvantage, though. He was in the middle of a pissed-off duo of highly-trained killers and a trio of simpletons with large guns. There was no cover for at LEAST 15 meters. My day just couldn’t get any better, could it? If it’s not orbital defense platforms, it’s cretins with guns the size of my arm. Just peachy. Self-preservation mode kicked in. Now it didn’t even matter if his crewmates ate a bullet, he just needed to get out.

“Come on out now, and no-one else has to get hurt,” distinctly thinking of himself. He was sure Kami would want to kill someone hearing his voice.

“Vasili, I sincerely hope for your own good that it was not you who shot Dez!” his captain yelled from behind the booth.

“You filthy turncoat!” Hond yelled in turn, “I’m not going down like this! I will gun you down, friend or foe!”

“I made a deal, Hond. You need to go with these guys now,” V said sternly.

“You know, I’d rather go back to the old man,” Hond probably couldn’t believe he was saying that.

“Vasili, don’t you dare do this to me!” Kami popped her head up to make sure he saw her glare. “I’ve invested a lot of faith and money in you, you bastard. Don’t screw this up.”

“I know, Sharpe,” V said, the amusement gone voice. “I owe you again.” He drew his pistol from his suit and fired a shot at Kami, intentionally aiming high, and, counting on luck once more, quickly diving to the side. Her response missed him and landed on another thug. Hond leaped the barricade and skillfully brought down the last thug with his cannon and trained it on Ryder, who was using Eyan as a shield by now. Kami too jumped over ran over to V, kicking twice: one for his pistol, one for his ribs.

“Stay down,” she commanded.

“I like a woman on top,” V responded with a twisted smirk. Kami let his ribs have another.

“Don’t you make another step, Hond,” Ryder barked, clearly panicking. “This girl’s life will be on your head.”

“Hiding behind a girl, shithead? That’s what you’re resorting to? Why don’t you just give her the pistol and let her fight? Maybe she’ll be able to hit me.”

“I mean it Hond! Stay back!

“You really think I can’t hit you from here? I’ll take a step or two back if you’d like. What do you think your chances are?”

Ryder gritted his teeth. The woman had her heel on Vasili’s chest but her gun on him. The alien one had set up behind the counter of the booth and had his blaster out as well. “Shit.”

Hond sneered, took careful aim and took one shot. Ryder flinched and felt nothing but Eyan collapse in his arm.

“… Damn,” Hond uttered as Ryder took off. More shots were sprayed at the man but he was gone in no time. “Kami, Sluis Control must’ve made us by now. We gotta scram.”

Kami already knew what had to be done. Vasili stared down the barrel of her gun and smiled. “Come on, Sharpe. You’re not gonna kill me.”

Kami cocked the blaster.

“I was trapped, Kami. I had no choice.”

She pressed her heel further into his chest.

“I owe you twice now.”

“I have a feeling you don’t make good on your debts.”

“Kami, come on!” Hond yelled, getting exponential more nervous.

“Fine, Sharpe. If you don’t trust me, then how about I lay some fact down on you. Your ship is busted. Sluis Control will so easily shoot it out of the sky unless you have a pilot and a hyperdrive. I can fly your ship and I know where to get the hyperdrive coils that we need. You wanna kill me? Fine. But at least lemme repay one of my debts to you and get you out of this Republic shithole.”

The captain wore an intense look of disgust on her face, her trigger finger quivering.

“You still trust me, Kami. I know you do,” V said trying to coax her.

“KAMI LET’S GO!”

She clearly was struggling with her decision making. There were so many factors to consider. All three of her friend’s voices were in her head; one panicked, emphasizing danger and desperately telling her to hurry up; one smooth and sly and begging her to remain sensible; one quiet and discerning and disapproving, telling her to realize that she may’ve lost on her gamble.

The woman jerked her gun an inch to the side and pulled the trigger three times – one for each stress she needed to destroy. Vasili cringed and shivered before pulling his face back into a smile. “Yarrrrrg,” he played, trying to diffuse the situation while at the same time affirming his affiliation. Kami ignored him and instead barked at Hond to get Dez on the ship.

“We’re going to have a talk when we’re back in the sky.”

Moelik Hond growled. He may have his gun, but he was still a prisoner. He ripped the glasses off of his face and tossed them into a wall. Ships were always full of oxygen, the mans eyes seemed to be balls of fire. Hond didn't like this treatment, but he was cornered, Sluis was not a planet for him, and he needed to get off of it, but returning to that desolate planet did not appeal to him, being shot out of the air appealed even less.

The pilot, in his greasy jumpsuit, pushed past Hond without a word. Hond almost shot him out of frustration alone.

“Where the fuck is she?” Hond roared.

“Shut up, I'm trying to drive,” the pilot yelled back; Honds grip tightened on his blaster.

“She's probably in the turret,” the alien groaned.

Hond let out a sigh that sounded more like a bark. He looked around the sparse cockpit, tossed down the rifle and spun on his heel; he darted to what could only be the ladder to the cannon controls. Looking down he could see Kami sitting there, the controls looked simple enough, there were triggers, good, it would just be like shooting a gun. He could a shoot a gun, he was good at it.

“You, down there; I can do that.”

“I don't have time for you.”

“It has triggers, I can shoot it. Just let me down there.”

Kami turned her head upward and considered the rebel for a moment. He was sweating, his red and black hair was greasy and dripping with sweat as red eyes burned holes in his head. The leather holster cradling his slug-thrower hung beneath his denim vest, a dark chest dripped sweat aswell as his arms held him up as he leaned over the hole.

“Fine,” Kami conceded.

Bloodhound smiled, he let Kami climb up before he slid down, grabing the earpiece that would keep him in communication with the cockpit and placing it over his right ear. The seat was uncomfortable, the padding worn our, he could feel each spring against him, he tried to shift his weight, but it didn't help. He grunted.

The controls seemed simple enough, a switch to turn it on, thumb buttons and triggers for each hand, he wasn't sure exactly how it worked, but he was pretty sure if he hit all the buttons and triggers at once it would shoot. Shooting was good; he liked it when things actually shot.

The first target was quickly in his view. Well, it was a ship, he didn't know nor care if it was affiliated with his enemies, he's rather be judged by twelve than carried by six. He brought the reticle towards their topside, between the sensors and the entry hatch before hitting all four controls at once. To his delight it fired magnificently, the blue ion bursts hit the other ship again and again before it began to drift to it's port side. That was nice.

He kept scanning around as best he could, firing at anything that came even close to them. He didn't know how to tell friend from foe, so he preferred to be safe and just shoot everything; ideally he'd have killed them all; but ion cannons very rarely did any actual killing.

“Hond, what the hell are you doing!” It was an angry female voice from above.

“God?”

“Fuck you; Hond, you're going to get us killed?”

“I'm going to? Why don't you actually get us THE HELL OUT OF HERE!”