Lukas Müller, an expert mechanic with a knack for slipping between his buyers’ fingers like soap spent almost twenty years of his life in piracy and slave smuggling, and made crazy bank in doing so. His pride and joy, the Engel, a stolen Imperial Clipper made his money possible; up until its owner managed to find him docked at an Imperial station.

—

“Yes, yes of course. I’m in the process of loading your shipment now, but please for the love of all things holy, be patient!” Lukas paced impatiently across the tarmac as he watched his ship get loaded from the sidelines. “Shiesse! Did your grandma teach you to load a cargo bay?” The dock workers only scoffed at him, deliberately ignoring his demands for them to move faster. Hypocrisy littered his words as he yelled into the microphone at his employer. His eyes darted nervously from one end of his ship to the other before hanging up on the man on the other end.

Only a few minutes passed when he was ready to walk up the cargo ramp into his ship. His hands rubbed roughly together before he reached up to scratch at his chin while the rest of the dock workers left the area to allow proper clearance.

All of a sudden, a flash of white flooded his vision, along with the painful electricity of something connecting with the back of his head. “I figured you would’ve stayed away from Imperial space, yet here you are.” His knees buckled underneath him from the blatant shock. All he felt was radiant fear as the bloodthirsty voice boomed behind him. “I’m not going to kill you. That would be too easy for somebody who stole my ship.” Other heckling voices laughed around him.

“Let me finish this route. Then you can have your ship b—“ His begging was interrupted by an agonizing groan as the same object was drawn across his face again. “Who do you think I am? I’m gonna make sure you can’t fly a ship even if you wanted to. You won’t be leaving with my ship, and you sure as hell won’t be leaving this dock without my say-so..” There was a moment of quiet, and Lukas sat staring at the ground with sweat beading down his forehead. He could envision that slim chance he had at making a run for it towards the ship, but knew it was a huge risk to run away from the group of men surrounding him knowing they were armed.

“Grab him.”

Without thinking, Lukas hightailed it to his stolen ship. The owner started yelling out at him, and Lukas couldn’t help but let out a nervous chuckle as he further distanced himself away from the group. “You’re done Lukas!”

Something struck his leg followed by an echoing boom, shattering his femur and spraying red all over the ground in front of him. He let out a pained scream as he crumbled to the ground and rolled several feet into the side of a metal shipping container. “Drop my ship into the hangar. He’s not leaving the station.”

—

“This doesn’t look like my ship,” the woman huffed as she watched from a distance as the black and orange Dolphin lowered itself gently onto the landing pad below. Her bags were clutched in the hands of two other dock employees who stood attentively at her sides. “I can assure you this is the correct ship. He’s on time as he should be,” one of them scoffed as he began to take orderly steps towards the docking ship.

The engines began powering down with a satisfying whirl, and the woman stared disgusted at the colors of the vessel. “I must speak to the commander. This is not acceptable.” Just as the cargo ramp began to withdraw, a man began taking heavy steps down the ramp. His head was buzzed, and he walked with a subtle limp. As he made his way to the bottom, it was clear he had intricate tattoos around his face and neck, and his eyes were hidden behind sunglasses. He wasn’t very tall, but for his size he looked like a heavyweight boxer, hidden behind the several layers of clothes he had on. “This is your ship?” She spat in question over the sound of the engines dying out. “No it is George Washington’s ship,” he shouted sarcastically at her. “Of course it is my ship. Why do you ask?” Her face peeled into a grimace at the fact his jacket was disheveled, and she couldn’t help but look him up and down to size him up. “Take those glasses off when you talk to me, boy.”

Lukas walked until he was standing just a few feet in front of her. His jewelry-ringed  fingers gripped the frame of his glasses with a sly grin on his face as he lowered them to the end of his nose. “Yes it is my ship. What is the problem?” She nearly gasped at the sight of his face when his eyes became visible to her. His eyelids looked mangled around cybernetic inhuman yellow and white glowing  irises, and one seemed to open further than the other. “Sorry, lady. I am your only ride out of this station. I don’t need your money if you don’t need my time.” Her hand rested on her chest in shock and hesitation. “Load my bags,” she grumbled lowly with a wave of her hand. “That is what i thought.” Lukas pushed his glasses back up his nose and placed his hands on his hips as he rotated to look up at his ship. “Sit wherever you like. No requests.”