Klinith Da carefully landed the stolen cargo hauler on the edge of the dock while her partner, Gwishi, searched the nearby compartments for the ship manifest. Taking things from the weak was a great way to live, but occasionally it came with its share of hassles, like when dopey officials made life difficult. Normally Klinith didn’t worry about such things—as a human woman in a galaxy full of much stronger species, she could handle herself—but they were supposed to be keeping a low profile, and that meant blasting people was unfortunately out of the question.
“Are they going to ask for any official documents?” Klinith asked, pushing her shock of magenta hair out of her face. She caught her reflection in the gleam of a side panel. She looked nothing like she was used to. She’d removed all her piercings and covered her Strike markings—the tattoos that told other Nihil about her crew and her career as a pirate—with the coveralls she wore, but she was not about to change her hair. She was still Nihil, even when she was pretending to be something else.
After a moment she reached into her pocket and threaded her silver wire around and through the holes in her bottom lip. That was a little better, less odd.
“This far out they shouldn’t care,” the male Aqualish said, his weak command of Basic making the words sound especially snarly. “The Republic doesn’t regulate this part of the galaxy. Yet.” Like Klinith, Gwishi wore simple coveralls, his Strike markings covered—all but the nasty scar on the right side of his face where he’d taken a blaster bolt to one of his eyes. That still gleamed blue, a jagged line bisecting his bottom right eye and terminating at his tusk. The ink had been added to the still healing wound to show that even though he’d taken a grievous injury, the person responsible was no longer around to repeat the mistake.
The Nihil repaid all their wrongs threefold.
Klinith grabbed both her blaster and her knives, because in stealthy situations knives were sometimes the better option, placing them in her toolbox. Gwishi grabbed his own blaster plus his face mask and a canister of ovax gas, which he placed into his tool kit along with the rest of his gear. The gas would be necessary to incapacitate the mechanics on board the Steady Wing, a luxury liner they had followed to Port Haileap, a remote outpost on the edge of the Dalnan sector.
The plan was simple. They’d been told to board the Steady Wing and sabotage it so that no one on board was left alive. The ship was scheduled to pick up someone important to the Republic on Haileap, and the Nihil needed to let the Republic know they were not welcome in this part of the galaxy.
Not now, not ever. The Republic was bad for business.
Before disembarking Klinith went back and grabbed one more blaster, small enough to tuck into the top of her boot. Sometimes things went wrong and people got hurt. That was Klinith’s favorite part.
There was a short walk through thick jungle, the marblewood trees large and covered in blue moss, before the busy docking station came into view. Klinith had purposely chosen an out-of-the-way landing space to allow her and Gwishi to enter undetected. The last thing they needed was too many people asking questions. Manifest or not, less attention was better.
“That’s it right there,” Gwishi said, pointing to an enormous ship that took up most of the landing yard. The thing was easily ten times the size of the cargo hauler they’d stolen, and Klinith felt a tendril of fear sneak through her as she considered that.
“How in the seven Genetian moons are we supposed to destroy that?” she asked.
Gwishi sighed. “From the inside. You’re Nihil. Act like it and stop worrying.”
“I’m not,” Klinith said. She had no problem with the mission; it just felt more serious than her previous jobs, like she’d been promoted. And if this job was successful, she surely would be. She’d rise within the Nihil, maybe even report directly to Kassav himself.
Klinith and Gwishi were close to the ship, and she grinned with anticipation. Everyone would be talking about the destruction of the Steady Wing. “I’m excited. This is going to be monumental. I’m just sad we don’t get to smash anything.”
Gwishi watched her with unblinking eyes. “Come on, let’s go.”
The port was teeming with people from many different systems. As the last stop before some of the most dangerous uncharted regions in the galaxy, Port Haileap, like other ports on the edge of what was considered civilized space, was a place for ships to refuel and for people to catch up on news from back home and relax before spending time in a cramped ship. A large landing area stocked with supplies and surrounded by a ring of shops, it was just like most of the outposts Klinith had been to, with the exception of the giant marblewood trees that were visible in the distance, stabbing the violet sky with their green crowns. Humans, Trandoshans, Pantorans, and more weaved among one another in a throng, making their way to the various shops lining the outside edge of the landing zone. Klinith saw a sign advertising gambling down a far hall and her hands itched. It had been a while since she’d had a chance to play rykestra, a popular dice game. But she had more pressing issues than a game of chance.
Klinith and Gwishi made their way up the boarding ramp to the Steady Wing. The Republic guards standing at the top of the walkway were laughing over something and paid the pirates no mind as they walked past. They blended in perfectly with the other mechanics walking on and off the luxury liner. Once they were in the ship proper, Gwishi slapped Klinith on the back.
“Too easy,” he said. And he was right.
They walked through the hallway, and Klinith felt a familiar anger rising deep in her middle. It was a grand ship, with beautiful golden floors and silver walls that featured a flower-patterned screen that shifted its design every few seconds. She tried to imagine what it would be like to stay on such a fine ship. She couldn’t, and that made her angrier than anything else. She couldn’t wait to destroy the Steady Wing and watch its beauty fracture in the emptiness of space.
Klinith followed Gwishi, stopping when he pointed to a plaque on the side of the hallway. The ship was so large that there were maps every few meters to show how to get to different areas.
“That’s where I’m headed.” Gwishi pointed to a blank spot before patting the heavy tool kit he carried. “I’m going to leave everyone a few surprises. You go and make sure the escape pods aren’t any good, either. The last thing we want is survivors. This should be a disaster that will make the Legacy Run look like a day at the fair.”
Before Klinith could respond, Gwishi turned and started off down the hallway, leaving her to figure out where the escape pods were held. After a few moments puzzling out the map—she wasn’t the best reader, and the map seemed purposely confusing—she figured out they were on another deck.
When Klinith arrived where the escape pods were, she discovered she wasn’t the only one there. A maintenance droid buzzed around the bay. At her entrance the droid stopped.
“Are you here to sign off on the pods?” the droid asked. It was a little box of a thing, with several arms sticking out at every angle.
“Yes, but we need to upgrade them. Take out the comms and nav systems.”
The droid rolled forward and back as it processed her command. “I have no such instructions. I must update my feeds to receive new instructions.”