Hond spit the cigarra out as the heat reached towards his lips. He wasn’t here for Sharpe or Snipes or anyone else. He was here for credits. He made sure he remembered that as he slung his rifle and trudged up the gangplank. He gave Vasili an especially loathsome glare from behind his sunglasses.

The interior hadn’t changed much since the last time he’d been along on one of these rides, as he wandered towards his usual place, lounging in the lounge he growled at himself for even accepting this job. He’d been doing fine as an enforcer for one of the larger of the small gangs that were inevitable on a place like The Locker. He knew Sharpe’s money was good, that was part of it, there was a lot of it and that was another part of it. He lit a cigarette and snaked his hands around behind his head. Fuckit, money’s good.

“WHY IS HE HERE!” Someone screeched.

Hond’s hand planted itself firmly on his face, “How is she still alive?”

He opened his eyes and, yes of course, there was Trix, spilled mop bucket and holding the mop infront of her as though it would somehow ward off Hond’s rather pungent presence. He was going to have to get earplugs, or some sort of Trix-cancelling ear implant, or he could kill her. Option three was the best, but he had a feeling Sharpe wouldn’t approve.

Kami stepped out of the hallway and looked at the scene before her, “Trix, he’s part of the crew, relax.” All reassurance and concern.

“I’m not part of your bloody crew,” Hond grumbled under his breath.

Sharpe’s head shot around and affixed him with a glare, of course from her it wasn’t just any glare. It might be one of the few glares that Hond respected. He also respected the enormous amount of money that glare was promising him.

Finally he sighed, “Yes, I’m part of the crew, at least for now.”

Hond wrapped his arms around his torso and lowered his head sulking. He lit a cigarette quickly and resumed his sulk. He chided himself again for taking the job, which just made him more sulky. He could almost feel Trix sticking her tongue out at him as soon as Sharpe turned her back. It made his hackles rise.

“Hond, would you take the ion cannon until hyperspace,” Sharpe’s voice over the intercom.

Of course, his old duties. He didn’t get to relax. It made his sulk sink. He trudged monotonously to the turret and climbed inside. It wasn’t even a proper weapon. It was an ion cannon. They weren’t real weapons, they were cop toys. I hate my life.

The ship left atmosphere quicker than most would, but of course it would. Kami Sharpe was The Mad King’s right hand. A dangerous woman in her own right as well. Hond scanned the area out of reflex, but this was Eyesore, there would be no trouble. Every ship in Osk knew that there were certain vessels one did not mess with. Zephyr was one of them. Piracy right outside The Locker was generally frowned upon anyway. Him being in the turret was probably just to make sure Trix didn’t have a heart attack and could go about with the mopping. Hond never really understood the mopping of ship floors, water so close to electrical doohickeys seemed like a bad idea, but ships the galaxy over did it. Maybe there was a reason, he just didn’t know, or much care what it was.

The whole mission bothered him, of course. He didn’t like helping out The Mad King, but Sharpe had gotten him out of a very bad place once long ago, and for that he owed her and he would very much like a chance to repay the favor and be out of her debt. Perhaps that was the mysterious third reason he was here.

From his place in the turret he got to see the blue lines of hyperspace envelop them and as soon as he did he climbed out of the turret and resumed his attempt to nap. His assault rifle next to him but the strap wrapped around his arm. It was a habit so ingrained in him that it was unavoidable. He lit a cigarette and relaxed. With the ship in motion and out of danger all he had to do was waste away the hours before he could pull a trigger.

Of course there was the rest of the crew and for the most part they were all incredibly annoying. As long as everyone left him alone this would be an easy trip, but he knew Zephyr better than that. This job is already troublesome.

The thud of the Zephyr’s landing gear making contact with the surface of Agora reverberated through the metal decking beneath Kami’s feet. She looked up from securing a fresh clip of ammo into one of her Kylan-3 heavy blaster pistols.

“Status Vee.” She spoke to the air before the airlock, relying on the flesh-colored transmitter hooked about her left ear to convey her order to the cockpit.

“Holding up so far Kams,”  Vasili’s voice murmured in response. “As far as the Rebs are concerned we’re just another merchant ship stopping for supplies.”

“Fits the bill,” Hond interjected from where he was standing just behind Kami. The mercenary had donned his heavy jacket in preparation for the extraction, the protective body armor he wore beneath barely visible thanks to the garment’s loose form. “Especially with that piece of shit ion cannon strapped to the belly.”

Kami shot Hond a look of warning before addressing Vasili again. “Those papers will only hold for a few hours at the very most. Be ready to lift off at the first sign of trouble.”

There was a thud, then a crackle of static in reply. Kami cocked her head to one side, her hand subconsciously curling about the barrel of her pistol. “Vee…you there?”

“I’m here,” Vasili’s mop of scruffy hair preceded his lanky form as the pilot strutted into the room, a blaster pistol held casually in one hand. He offered his Captain his trademark grin. “I’m coming. Ydj can handle the Z.”

Kami opened her mouth to protest, hesitated as she sized up the man’s infuriating smile, and then decided against wasting her breath. Having another blaster along for the ride wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, especially since she was unsure as to how many agents Thrawn had tracking their target. She took a step towards the pilot and jabbed a slender finger into the solid bulk of his chest. “Fine. But this is not to be a repeat of Sluis Van, alright?”

Vasili’s expression slipped into a mock pout. “What? No lasers flying at my face?  No almost dying?”

Deznim let out a snort from where he was standing directly opposite the airlock door. “You know that’s pretty much a given.”

“True,” Vasili looked Kami up and down, letting his gaze linger just a second too long on the low cut of her high-collared top. “Speaking of which, are you planning on doing Thrawn’s job for him Kams or is this just the latest Agora fashion?”

“I’m not planning on getting hit,” Kami turned her back on the pilot and spun the pistol in her hand into the empty holster strapped to her left thigh. “That’s your specialty.”

Deznim’s musical laughter was joined by a deep bark of mirth from Hond. The mercenary jabbed the butt of his shotgun into Vasili’s side before slipping the weapon smoothly beneath his coat and out of sight. His glowing red eyes flashed before he slid a pair of dark circular shades into place, “In that case flyboy, you’re more than welcome to ride shotgun for me.”

“I’d rather not be stabbed repeatedly in the back.” Vasili  said, sidling up to Kami’s side.

A whir of machinery and the hiss of the room depressurizing preceded the plated airlock sliding back to reveal the spaceport beyond. Kami started down the ramp as it quickly extended from the side of the Z and locked into place on the hangar floor with a resounding thud. Vasili followed on her heels in his casual swaggering fashion, Deznim at his back, with Hond bringing up the rear.

The small group made their way across the sparse hangar. Apart from the Zephyrthe small installation contained only one other ship, a battered Firespray-class vessel that looked as though it had seen better days. They made it to the small office situated directly opposite the exit on the far side of the hangar before they were greeted by a five-man security squad of New Republic personnel.

“Halt.” The soldier at the fore of the group raised a gloved hand, palm facing outwards. “Papers.”

Kami did as she was commanded, adopting an air of impatience as Deznim scuttled forward to provide the Sergeant in charge of security with their documentation. She had no qualms about being recognized by NR forces while on Agora. The planet was the backwater of the Sluis Van Sector, lacking the advanced screening procedures and equipment present on the busier world of Sluis Van itself. The security team looked bored out of their minds, probably fulfilling a basic rotation requirement of their service. It was likely the small contingent of NR forces stationed on-world dealt primarily with bar brawls and domestic disputes. There was, after all, nothing of any strategic importance for them to protect.

“All good,” The Sergeant gestured for his men to step aside. “Enjoy your stay on Agora.”

Kami flashed the man a smile that lacked completely in warmth. “We will.”

Deznim scurried up to her shoulder as the four members of the Zephyr’s crew moved out of the shadowy protection of the hangar and into the bright sunlight on the dusty street beyond. Without batting an eye, the Ryn promptly dumped their documentation in the nearest public disposal system. The papers they had acquired to get them access to Agora were only capable of passing the most rudimentary of inspections. Once the Sergeant and his team finished their patrol and processed their copy of the paperwork back at head office, their systems would notify them that the identities and ship I.D provided upon docking actually belonged to the crew of another ship. A ship that had, a few weeks prior, mistakenly flown too close to Osk space. The unfortunate crew members on-board were now either dead or wallowing in captivity in the dank cells beneath the Locker.

A soft chime announced to all within earshot that Deznim had received a private message. He unclipped the small datapad fixed to his belt and scrolled the recently received text quickly before flicking his bright gold eyes to Kami.

“Switch has made contact. I have co-ordinates of his location.”

“Where?” Kami asked him. Her own gaze was sliding back and forth, taking in every seemingly insignificant detail of their surroundings as they moved onto one of the main streets.

“A tavern not far from here.” Deznim replied.

Kami swore gently under her breath. “It always has to be a tavern.”

“Not much else here to be fair,” Vasili spoke up from behind her. “At least if he stands us up we can have a drink.”

Kami tilted her head at Deznim, signalling that the slight Ryn take the lead. He took several quick steps forward and ducked to the left and down a side alley. Kami, Vasili and Hond followed, blending in the with the living press of the market place until they were swallowed up by the crowd.

Kami drummed the fingers of her gloved right hand on the metal tabletop of the booth in which she and Deznim were seated. Every few seconds her bright green eyes would flick to the chrono visible on Deznim’s wrist where he was sitting opposite her. After the fifth time the Ryn offered her a shrug of his scrawny shoulders and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Might be we’ve actually been stood up.” Dez murmured quietly, taking a small sip of the frothy purple beverage he has ordered.

“No.” Kami’s gaze traveled over the mass of humanity in the tavern, not allowing her eyes to linger too long on Hond where he was perched at the bar opposite also with drink in hand. The mercenary looked perfectly at home, one booted foot propped on a nearby stool, but Kami was more than aware of his capacity to move quickly at his signal. She looked back to Deznim before speaking again, “Something has gone wrong.”

Deznim stiffened at the tone of her voice. While more than proficient with a blaster the Ryn lacked the years of military service his Captain had. He had not quite developed the ‘itch’ that veteran soldiers experienced when missions took a turn for the worse. It was this precognitive ability to predict a turn for the worse that had kept Kami alive throughout hundreds of sticky situations. While this itch was not unheard of, Kami’s capacity to sense trouble had ultimately become ingrained in her reputation. Some called it luck, others coincidence, and others still wisely held their tongue and their thoughts about dormant mystical powers. A stalwart believer in what she could physically see and touch, Kami disregarded all the theories. All that mattered in her mind was that she and hers lived to see another day.

The soft hiss of static drew Kami’s attention back to the present. Vasili had clearly taken a break from heaving up the questionable contents of his stomach as his voice sounded in her ear moments later.

“Four NR goons just walked in, Cap.” He said. “Best be on your very shiniest.”

Kami slid out of the booth and to her feet in a single motion, tossing a cred chip down on the tabletop as she did so. Deznim followed suit and made to sidestep out of the booth only to hesitate as a pair of black-clad human men blocked his path as they also excited their adjacent booth.

“Sorry!” Deznim started in reflex, both furry hands flying up before him in a gesture of subjugation, “I’m always running into people…”

The man closest to Deznim ignored the stuttering alien and shifted his gaze to Kami. For a moment the dark eyes started to shift away only to flick back and suddenly fixate on her face. The smooth skin of the man’s forehead furrowed and his lips parted, the subtle clues the only forewarning Kami had before a flash of recognition lit up in his dark depths.

“Down Dez!” Kami yelled, hooking a hand under the table and casting it towards her friend. She heard Deznim’s muffled yelp as the heavy table connected with his shoulder before both he and the man standing next to him were driven to the floor. The still standing companion of the downed man started to reach beneath heavy coat and pull his weapon free only to recoil as the blaster clasped in Kami’s left hand jumped. Her first shot went wide, driving a red gouge across the side of the man’s neck. The second hit him directly in the centre of his forehead and sent his twitching corpse flying back into the booth he had only just recently vacated.

Screams sounded as the patrons of the tavern panicked at the sound of blasterfire. Kami span the barrel of her smoking blaster towards the remaining black-clad stranger only to see Deznim on top of him. Both of the Ryn’s hands as well as his powerful tail were wrapped about the man’s neck, choking the last remnant of life from his ashen-faced assailant.

“Freeze!” Someone shouted from behind Kami, the voice ringing with authority.

Kami didn’t hesitate. Without looking she snapped her second blaster from its holster and swung both of her weapons about in the direction of the voice.

The NR patrol scattered for cover as they abruptly found themselves under fire. Kami tracked the movement of the closest soldier, a young woman, managing to drill a laser bolt into her shoulder before she made it behind the cover of a nearby pole. The woman’s shriek of pain was barely audible as her comrades returned fire.

Kami swore and dropped down, her hair sizzling as a bolt passed mere inches from her cheek.  The side of the booth shuddered violently as it absorbed the combined firepower of the Republic troopers, threatening to collapse inwards and disintegrate. Kami locked her jaw and forced herself to focus on loading another clip into one of her spent pistols. The stream of firepower stuttered, then came to an abrupt halt as the loud crack of a shotgun pierced the air. Despite the severity of the situation, a smile caught at the edges of Kami’s lips. Hond had entered the fray.

She leapt back up from behind cover, catching the sight of four troopers as they slowly span about to deal with the new threat. Hond walked slowly towards their position, one hand steadily reloading the brutal weapon on every pace, the other squeezing the trigger. One of his rounds turned the girl Kami had hit into a bloodied pulp as such close range. The man at her side gaped momentarily at what remained of his squad member before he too fell victim to the lethal barrage of shotgun pellets.

Meanwhile Deznim had popped up from behind the table and joined the fight. A stream of his red laser bolts drilled into the soldier shouting frantically into his comm unit. Kami took careful aim and focused on the last of the squad, a man with grey hair showing at his temples. The solider bared his teeth in a grimace of defiance and pain as she slugged three powerful rounds into his chest, execution style.  A fountain of arterial blood burst free of his mouth as he collapsed sidewards, his rifle flying free of his limp fingers and clattering across the length of the floor until it rested at Kami’s feet.

“You alright Dez?”Kami asked without taking her eyes from the scene before her. A few patrons were still huddled beneath booths , chairs and tables, not willing to risk being shot despite the sudden ceasefire. A brave few scuttled out the door and into the street beyond. Kami let them leave, more than aware that the deceased NR squad had already sounded the alarm. They only had ten or so minutes before back-up arrived.

“I’m alright,” Deznim replied. There was the sound of scrabbling claws as Deznim leaped onto the table of the booth and examined the black-clad man Kami had shot. “You might want to look at this.”

Kami turned to him, relying on Hond to cover the tavern, and arched an eyebrow as Deznim held up several holo-images that had been tucked in the man’s inner coat pocket. One was of her, a surveillance shot that looked as though it had been taken on the muddied streets of the Locker.

“Thrawn’s men?” Deznim asked her drily, rifling through the images and showing her another, this one of himself. “Or secret admirers?”

“My bet is on Thrawn.” Kami closed her eyes momentarily as she sought to process everything. Thrawn’s people were seemingly not only aware of Switch’s location, but of the deal the slicer had brokered with her and her crew. They also had access to Eyesore, which suggested the placement of several covert agents. Even if they managed to get Switch off Agora there was a real chance that the slicer would simply die back in friendly territory.

When she opened her eyes Hond was standing next to her. The mercenary had removed his glasses and was now watching her with his disturbing glowing gaze.

“We only have a few minutes to make a decision here Sharpe,” He growled, echoing her own thoughts. “Your slicer is as good as dead.”

“Back to the Z,” Kami snapped, all of her momentary indecision gone. She looked to Deznim. “Check them for anything else.” She raised a slim hand and pressed the small switch of her earpiece. “Ydj, we need to be ready for a hasty exit.”

“Affirmative,” Ydj’s reply came courtesy of his translation droid. “Though you should be aware that both pilot Vasili and litter-runt Trix are not currently on-board.”

“What?” Kami glanced about, only suddenly aware that she had no idea where Vasili was. Hond let out a growl at her side and started to stalk about the interior of the tavern, overturning chairs and tables and startling frightened patrons.

“Where are you flyboy!” He roared to the air. “I am not getting killed for you!”

“Miss Sharpe.”

Kami stilled as Ydj’s chatter abruptly gave way to an unfamiliar voice over the comm. Deep, gravelly, and decidedly male, the voice was clearly a construct of a program that prevented others from extrapolating an identity via voice signature. Hond and Deznim’s heads whipped around as they too heard the voice. Someone had cracked into the frequency being used by the entire crew of the Zephyr.

“Who is this?” Kami responded in clipped tones, not willing to be intimidated despite their situation.

“Your paycheck,” The voice responded. “I hope you’re not considering going back on our deal.”

“The deal was conditional on you actually being here for pickup,” Kami snarled. “And since you’ve decided to run we’ll replicate the favor.”

There was a burst of static as the voice failed to disguise a snort. “You are feisty Sharpe, but then again, I would expect nothing less. I became aware of the two agents and sought to re-examine my choice of venue. I did not expect you to start killing everyone in sight.”

“Where are you you fucking piece of shit?” Hond jutted into the conversation, his anger threatening to boil over. “I’ll gut you myself you cowardly-“

“Enough,” Kami bit out the word and caused the mercenary to pause. She addressed the next words to Switch. “What do you want?”

“I’m willing to offer you more than the original deal if you stick to the extraction plan,” The slicer replied calmly, unfazed by Hond’s death threats. “I am of course taking into account the additional risk posed by local enforcement agents, Thrawn’s agents and the bounty hunter.”

“Bounty hunter?” Deznim’s mustachios billowed as he exhaled heavily before he clutched his forehead with one hand. “This is so typical.”

Kami gestured for both Hond and Deznim to follow her as she spun about and started towards the rear exit of the tavern,

“Alright. Go ahead, I’m listening.”

By the time Vasili sauntered up the ramp of the Zephyr, a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a cigarette dangling from his lips, Kami had been stewing for a good few minutes. She intercepted him at the top of the ramp and slammed him back into a metallic storage compartment fixed to the ship’s wall. The bottle hit the deck with a resounding thud, the remaining liquor spilling out and pooling about Kami’s boots as she pushed her face up directly before her pilot’s.

“You were supposed to stay in the bloody tavern,” Kami hissed between clenched teeth. “Instead you wander off and leave us one down for when the shit hits the fan.”

Vasili took a casual draw of the cigarette with his one free hand, making no move to attempt to free himself from her grasp. His voice and expression remained infuriatingly calm in the face of his Captain’s anger. “Sorry darlin’.”

“Sorry?” Kami fought down the urge to slam her elbow into Vasili’s smug face. “About what exactly? Vanishing or losing Trix?”

Vasili offered her a shrug of shoulders and the flash of a smile in response. “Both?”

Kami shoved herself away from the pilot and forced a deep breath into her lungs. While punching Vee in the face would be satisfying, it did little to aid their quickly crumbling payment plan. She opted instead to violently kick the half-empty whiskey with a booted foot.  Vasili’s mouth dropped open in poorly disguised shock as the bottle flew out of the Zephyr and vanished into the hangar beyond. Kami slapped the panel near the doorway to bring the ramp up and seal the loading dock before her idiotic pilot could chase after it.

“Heeeeeeeeeeyyy….” Vasili looked genuinely devastated. “That wasn’t half bad.”

“Cockpit.” Kami managed between gritted teeth. “Now.”

The pilot considered her for a moment, clearly determining whether or not further protest would result in instantaneous death, before pushing himself off the wall and wisely starting towards the cockpit. Kami followed on his heels, already in the process of calling Deznim.

“Vee is on-board. Get us airborne.”

The engines of the Zephyr whined in response, the floor shifting slightly as the light freighter lifted free of the hangar floor. Kami and Vasili made it to the cockpit as Ydj maneuvered the Z completely free of the small hangar and into the atmosphere.

“Move aside bugman,” Vasili announced as he entered. “Daddy’s home.”

Ydj scuttled out of the pilot’s chair to make way for the somewhat inebriated pilot and scuttled to Kami’s side.

“Captain,” The Verpine twitched a long leg before her face. “Could we possibly take this opportunity to discuss your ban on any modifications to the sublight drive?”

“No, we cannot.” Kami shot Ydj a glare that would have withered most humans. The Verpine, still unfamiliar with human expression despite his time on the Zephyr continued on in his perpetually jovial manner.

“Of course,” He bobbed his head up and down several times. “I will endeavor to schedule an appropriate time for an appointment in the near future. I understand that processing the intended mutilation of Pilot Vasili utilizes a significant proportion of a human's mental capacity.”

“Can everyone shut up?” Vasili interjected from where he was now completely at ease in his chair. “I think I feel a headache coming on.”

“A headache or a hangover?” Kami snapped at him. She flicked her blazing green eyes to Deznim. “Give him the co-ordinates.”

The Ryn nodded warily and brought up the co-ordinates provided by Switch for Vasili. The pilot eyed them for a moment and directed his next question at Deznim. “There a reason we’re not running?”

Deznim’s golden gaze flicked to Kami momentarily for permission before he answered. “We’re not running, Switch has doubled the pot.”

“Doubled?” Despite himself, Vasili looked to Kami for clarification. “Are we sure he can even deliver?”

Kami suppressed her irrational urge to continue lashing out at the pilot. Vasili’s capacity to unravel her legendary calm was freakishly effective. “He already has,” She managed, her tone substantially calmer. “The agreed price has already been delivered into my account.”

“So…why are we still helping this guy?” Vasili asked her. “We already got paid.”

Kami was unsurprised by the question, having already argued with Hond earlier. Why risk their necks if they had already been paid? The answer to that question was not as simple as it seemed. New Republic forces would be swarming Agora in the next few minutes in response to the shoot-out in the tavern. Not the pushover local enforcement types either, crack troops from Sluis Van stationed nearby in the event of an emergency. The flags raised from their bogus paperwork, the presence of a renowned bounty hunter and the murder of four soldiers and two ‘innocent’ bystanders would be more than enough to warrant their intervention.  Things were about to get incredibly messy. Common sense dictated that they get away as quickly as possible, and for lawless men such as Vasili and Hond, this common sense (for once) reflected their own urge to save their skins.

“The money is worth next to nothing compared to the files Switch is leaking on Thrawn,” Kami said, crossing her arms across her chest in a gesture that indicated that she would not budge on this point. “That’s what we came here for and I’m not planning on leaving if extraction is still an option.”

Vasili grumbled something under his breath and turned back to the controls. Under his expert guidance the Zephyr lurched forward and flipped about on one side. They would reach the pick-up location provided by Switch in minutes thanks to the freighter’s speed. A small town with an ever smaller population of farmers, Switch had clearly picked an area beyond the urban limits in the hope of granting them more time from the pursuing NR forces. Of course, chances were that Thrawn’s agents were right on his tail. As well as the bounty hunter who was currently using Trix as her version of a tradeable commodity.

Kami’s eyes narrowed as she considered the fate of Aeos’s sister. The kid was tough but she had been sheltered for the last few years. She had no defensive training and had no idea how to hold and shoot a blaster. The chances of Trix escaping a skilled bounty hunter were slim to none. All they could do is continue on and hope that Lady Luck gave them an opportunity to retrieve her.

Otherwise she’d find herself in the none-too-pleasant position of having to attempt to explain to a friend exactly how she let her beloved kid sister die.