“Get the fucking hell out of my way.”
The gruff voice rains down on the crew jostling cargo up the loading ramp of the Narrow Escape. The captain of the ship towers over them, disheveled blond hair standing on end as he runs a greasy hand through it. His bored first mate frowns up at him as she approaches with another crate.
“You want we should jump off the side of the gangplank, Cap’n?” she ventures garrulously, an abrasive smirk chasing across her face. “Cuz, we could do that, only you ain’t paid for my last kolto tank stay yet and I won’t be much use with the broken legs I’m like to get from the fall.”
“How about I push you off the side?”
“How ‘bout I grab the front uh’ your shirt ‘n’ drag ya off with me?”
His scowl cracks. “You’d do that too, wouldn’t you?” He grins suddenly. “Have I told you you’re an annoying bitch?”
“Only ever’ day, Cap’n. Only ever’ day.”
“Well consider yourself told again.”
“Consider yourself told off again then,” she retorts.
He doffs an imaginary cap to her and threads his way down the ramp.
* * *
“SEELUND!”
She bolts upright from a dead sleep, the thin blanket slipping off the side of the bed. Feeling the empty place next to her she swears under her breath and gropes in the dark for her comm, clicking the channel open. “Captain?”
“Warm’er up. Comin’ in hot.” She can hear pounding footsteps echoing off the walls and into the comm, something suspiciously like blaster fire in the background.
“Why do you _always_ do this?” She accuses peevishly, tossing back the sheets and wincing as her bare feet touch the cold metal floor. “Who is it this time? An angry husband? Someone you rolled at pazaak?” Flipping the light on she dons the previous day’s work clothes one-handed.
“Just do it. Talk when… get there.” The channel goes dead.
“Just once, I’d like to leave a planet on schedule,” she mutters to herself.
Strapping on her blaster she races out of her stateroom, hitting the alarm on the way out.
“You know the drill, folks. Get ‘er ready. Cap’n’s incomin’.” she shouts into her comm.
She storms onto the bridge, noting with pride that her other officers are only a few steps behind. “Wha’d he do this time?” one of them spouts in her direction.
“Damned if I know,” she answers, taking the pilot’s chair, jabbing at the intercom. “Fire’er up, boys, Ah’m gettin’ the sense we’re gonna be blastin’ out uh’ the bay.”
The ship shivers to life under her, the vibrations sending a familiar chill up her spine. “Tha’s my baby,” she murmurs, stroking the controls gently as she sends the commands to unlock the docking clamps.
The scratchy intercom crackles. “See him. He’s got… holy hells he’s got half the planetary security behind him.” She jerks her head back toward the hallway and one of the crew jumps to man the guns.
“If that man survives I am going to kill him,” she announces, trying to send an override to open the station’s outer doors. She can hear the ship’s main battery open fire on something inside the hangar. “If his own ship doesn’t kill him first.”
The hangar doors remain obstinately shut.
She slaps the intercom. “Niri, we’re going through those doors in thirty seconds. If you don’t want to be paste you’ll give me an opening.”
“Knock knock!” comes back across the intercom as the main guns swivel across the hangar.
The signal she’s been waiting for: “Got’im!”
She bangs the console, thrusting the ship toward the doors.
“Niri…?! Doors?!”
She shields her eyes against the sudden glow as the doors buckle under the full force of the ship’s main battery. Out the door and a sudden 90 degree turn to confuse any attempts to shoot them down.
The Escape skims a few hundred meters from the skin of the station, streaking by surprised gawkers in one of the observation decks. She skates off the edge and into space, darting around ships, keeping others between herself and the station’s batteries. Fighters careen around the corner in pursuit.
Aydrien drops a fist on the intercom button and shouts, “Don’t shoot them down unless you have to. Just clip their wings a little.”
There’s no reply but fighters start twirling off to the sides. “He’s gotten remarkably good at that shot,” one of the other officers remarks.
“He’s had too much practice.” Aydrien answers pointedly.
She calculates the jump to light speed, flipping end for end at the last second to confuse anyone stupid enough to follow. As the stars stretch in the viewscreen, she lets out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.
“He better be wounded,” she growls, standing, “or I’m gonna kill him myself.”