Vykk sat in a seedy cantina in the bad part of Tyrena. Dirt and slime stubbornly clung to the walls and smoke reduced line of sight to almost nil. He had been staring into his glass for what seemed like an hour. His mind drifted from one topic to another almost at random. He had gone too long without work. The last year had passed in a complete haze as he drifted from place to place. His clothes were worn and dirty. His scraggly brown hair hung almost to his shoulders, the bangs almost covering his brown eyes. He was in bad need of a shave and smelled of bantha fodder. But most of all, he missed the touch of a good woman.
"Excuse me, are you Vykk Draygo?" a woman asked.
She was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Of average height and slender build, her delicate features were framed by a cascade of shimmering blonde hair. Her outfit was military in cut, but didn't detract from the feminine curves evident under the fabric. Her piercing blue eyes drew Vykk into their voluminous depths. For a few seconds, he stared dumbfounded at the vision of splendor standing in front of him. Blinking, he regained his composure. Noticing her arms crossed over her chest, he at last responded.
"Who wants to know?" Vykk asked indignantly.
"Oh, no one. I only came here to offer you a contract," she said offhandedly.
Vykk could barely contain his curiosity. A contract? After all these months?
"What's the cargo and where's it going?" he asked.
"The cargo isn't here. We need you to go to Kessel and pick it up. I presume you have a ship," she said, almost sounding bored.
"Yeah, I have a ship, the Lightfinger. Kessel, you say? You talkin spice? And who's we?" he pressed.
"A qualified yes to your first two questions. As for who we are, you don't really need to know that. Suffice it to say that we are an influential group of people interested in furthering our ambitions," she answered almost by rote.
"Alright, I can accept that. What exactly are the arrangements? Will there be any danger to me?" he asked anxiously.
"There shouldn't be too much. You've been to Kessel, Mr. Draygo. Smuggling is all there is. You'll be in no more danger than you would be at a dozen other smuggler havens," she said, trying to quiet Vykk's fears.
"Alright, how much does it pay?" he asked eagerly.
The woman named a figure. Vykk's eyes almost exploded from his head, but he let no further evidence of his surprise show on his face.
"Sounds good. When do I need to pick it up?" he asked.
"We'd appreciate it if you could leave immediately," she said with a thin smile.
"Okay, one last thing. What's your name?" Vykk asked, plainly curious.
"You can call me Brianna. And perhaps you can wash yourself with that pile of drool dribbling from your mouth," she said with obvious distaste as she turned and left.
"Will do," Vykk replied to her retreating back.
After a few minutes, he settled his bill and left the cantina. With a certain spring in his step, he made his way to the spaceport. But first, he stopped off for some clean clothes and a thorough visit to a public 'fresher. Finally smelling of human again, he arrived at the spaceport. After getting clearance for takeoff, he launched.
The Lightfinger emerged from hyperspace in the Kessel system. The sight that greeted Vykk on reversion chilled his blood. An Imperial Star Destroyer formed the centerpiece of the aggressing fleet. Surrounding it were a variety of support ships. Two Carrack Cruisers flanked the Star Destroyer's bow while a single Dreadnaught kept watch over its stern. Pickets and fighters swarmed around this core fleet. Arrayed against them was a rag-tag assortment of modified freighters, fighters, and a couple battered capital ships.
"Emperor's black bones!" he exclaimed.
He continued to curse fluently in multiple languages as the shock of finding two opposing fleets slugging it out assimilated in his mind. Thirty seconds later, he began to ponder what his best course of action would be. He certainly couldn't land on Kessel; his way was blocked. Joining in the furball would be problematic since he had no copilot. Suddenly, he heard a commotion from one of his smuggling compartments. Mystified, he went to investigate.
Feeling the reversion from hyperspace, Brianna lifted the lid of the smuggling compartment slightly. Seeing no one in the immediate vicinity, she heaved the lid backwards. It made a loud banging noise that reverberated throughout the entire ship. Seconds later, Vykk blundered into the hallway to find Brianna waiting impatiently with her arms crossed.
"What are you doing here?" shouted an incredulous Vykk.
"I see you clean up well," she commented, "I'm here to ensure that the cargo gets picked up and taken to my employer."
"Why stow aboard my ship if you could have done the job yourself?" he asked, mystified.
"I'm not as gifted a pilot as you are reputed to be. We anticipated certain difficulties would arise in securing our cargo. However, we didn't expect it to be a full-on Imperial raid. Their presence here makes this delivery extremely problematic," she explained.
"Ya think? I'm not about to enter that maelstrom for a few thousand credits!" he shouted vehemently.
"If you require more money for your services, we will of course provide it. But we need this delivery made on schedule," she insisted.
"Why?" he asked.
"That's not for you to know. Will doubling your pay be sufficient to retain your services?" she asked quickly.
"Sure, but what do I do if I'm queried by the Imps?" he asked.
"You're a smuggler. Just use a different transponder code," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
"If this doesn't work, I'm going to do anything and everything to save my precious hide," he said, jerking his thumb at his chest.
Vykk returned to the cockpit with Brianna in tow. Finding out that Brianna was a qualified copilot, she took the seat next to him and they carefully began to fly towards the battle. Within seconds, they received their first query.
"Unidentified ship, this is the Imperial Star Destroyer Bereavement, please activate your IFF transponder or prepare to be boarded," an imperious voice said over the comm.
Brianna detected a distinct accent in the man's clipped, precise intonations. It was Vykk, however, that gave voice to her thoughts.
"That there is a standard grade Imp, probably from Eriadu. I can almost hear his nose up in the air. Oh well, I guess I should oblige him," Vykk said as he casually flipped on the IFF transponder.
"Very good, freighter. Now identify yourself and your ship," the voice ordered.
"This is Captain Ogyard Kkyv of the civilian freighter Regnifth Gil," Vykk said, barely managing to keep a straight face.
This prompted Brianna to nearly collapse in a fit of silent giggles. Vykk's face broke into a broad grin as well. After all, he had to give them some chance.
"I see your registry here Mr. Kkyv. What are you doing in this sector of space?" the voice asked.
"I'm carrying replacement parts for Kessel's atmospheric generators," Vykk replied.
"I suggest you turn back. There is a large naval battle taking place in your vicinity," the voice advised.
"I'm willing to take my chances," Vykk suggested.
"Very well. On your head be it," the voice said.
"Commander Navard, be advised that the freighter Regnifth Gil is a civilian and not to be fired upon."
Commander Tarven Navard of Blaze Squadron sighed. Why did civilians always have to get in the way? They could have at least stood off until the battle was over. About to turn his attention back to the battle, something suddenly caught his eye. There was something familiar about the civilian freighter's profile. Its name rang a bell in the back of his head, too. Regnifth Gil? What the hell kind of name was that for a Corellian ship? Then it struck him.
"The Lightfinger! Vykk Draygo, you conniving bastard!"
Flipping on his comm, he hailed the Bereavement.
"Lieutenant Vax, that is not a typical civilian freighter. I recognize her profile. It's the Lightfinger."
"I'll get Captain Blon," Vax said through clenched teeth.
"Commander Navard, has the Lightfinger landed yet?" Blon asked.
"No, sir, but the enemy fleet is between us and him," Tarven replied.
"Return to the ship," Blon ordered, "We'll provide you and your squad mates with an unmarked shuttle for a covert insertion."
"Very good sir," Tarven acknowledged.
Secure in their landing berth, Vykk and Brianna debarked from the Lightfinger.
"I never thought I'd be on solid ground again," Vykk said, relieved.
"You can kiss it if you want. I wouldn't think any less of you," Brianna said wryly.
Vykk narrowed his eyes at her. "Hey, I have every reason to be this damn paranoid, alright?" he said with an edge in his voice. He stared daggers at her for a moment, then, sighing, he offered a compromise. "How about this? If I quit grousing, will you shut up?"
"Deal," she agreed, "Besides, we have business to attend to."
"Will I get shot at?" he asked.
"I doubt it. Didn't you say you'd stop complaining?" she asked, mildly annoyed.
"Fine. No more grumbling," Vykk grumbled.
Brianna looked sideways at Vykk but offered no further comment.
"So, where are we picking up the cargo?" he asked.
"I can't tell you at the moment. Just follow me," she ordered.
"Yes, ma'am," Vykk said with a roll of his eyes.
She led him deep into the main complex. They passed several other ships in various states of loading and unloading. Soon they came upon a greasy little door.
"This it?" Vykk asked.
"Yes, now seal your word port," she snapped, "I need to conduct some delicate negotiations regarding the cargo, and I don't need you screwing it up. If you say anything, I guarantee that you will be shot. Whether I get shot as well is less evident, but I'd rather not risk it."
"Ooh, touchy. I hope I'm not starting to rub off on you," Vykk teased.
At Brianna's withering stare, Vykk finally took the hint.
"My lips are sealed," he said as he lapsed into silence.
Brianna punched a code into the door and it slid open. Waiting for them were four heavily armed Rodians. Vykk hadn't smelled Rodians in over a year. Now the stench threatened to overpower him, but he kept his face blank.
"Who's this?" one of the Rodians asked gruffly.
"My pilot, nothing more," Brianna replied brusquely.
They seemed to accept this, but then began a thorough frisking of both Vykk and Brianna. Relieving them of their weapons, they gestured to the pair that they should follow.
Tarven and his squadmates landed on Kessel in the unmarked shuttle. As Tarven surveyed the landing pad, he spotted the Lightfinger. He saw a man matching Vykk Draygo's profile walking with a woman. He gestured to his men to shadow them. Vykk and his companion appeared oblivious to the possibility that someone may be tailing them. After several minutes, they arrived at a dingy door. The woman entered a code into a recessed keypad and the door opened. Tarven could just barely see two Rodians waiting inside. Some barely audible conversation took place accompanied by a rustling sound. Frisking them, no doubt. Recognizing this as an opportune moment to apprehend the two humans, Tarven signaled his men to move forward. Leading the pack, he slunk up behind Vykk. Suddenly, the Rodians reacted to the Blazes' presence.
"What in the blazes?" one of them shouted, bringing a blaster to bear.
Tarven hastily pistol-whipped both Vykk and Brianna as his men mowed down the four Rodians in a torrent of blasterfire.