Hardwired

chapter three.

The Stealth Fighter ZX-80—a ship manufactured only for the IEC—was a prime example of the finest craftsmanship in the Yuhunr Galaxy. This model was made for smaller crews, usually only eight males or less, and meant for smaller patrols from planet to planet instead of long-range travel to other galaxy like the armada ships.

It meant that whatever crew was present was smaller than what normally performed raids on planets and instead specialized in catching illegal salvagers and pirates. The ship docked against the hole in my hull. It was a sting to my already trampled pride as weighed the options in front of me. There was no way I could try to evade the Enforcers who were without a doubt going to arrest me and take me to Pharsouk. Even though I had no cargo, I was still piloting a wanted ship and I wasn't documented.

There would be no trial, since there was a bounty on the ship, and my punishment would be to serve in a work camp like everyone who broke galactic laws. There was no telling how long they would detain me, it could be a handful of rotations or the entirety of my life.

"They won't take me without a fight," I told myself as I watched the doors to the Enforcer ship begin to part. I knew I couldn't win. There was no way I could fight even one IEC enforcer let alone a whole crew. My fighting skilled were rudimentary at best and while I liked to think my shot was always true I'd bet all the credits in the universe they could all shoot better than me.

But it didn't mean I couldn't fuck their shit up before they took me in.

I was going down for crimes that weren't mine so I may as well make it worth my while. What were they going to do? Give me two life sentences to the work camp? Force me to work twice as hard? I scoffed at the thought.

At least I could go into the camp saying I had the lady-balls to face them down fighting instead of surrendering like a coward. Reputation was everything and I was less likely to get fucked with if people respected me.

Leaving the plasma cut hole in my hull, I limped towards the cockpit. My eyes dancing over the buttons and gauges, my hand trailed over the pilot's chair as I hobbled by. All my hard work, gone. All thanks to the damned Kvasirian and his greed. Had he just left me alone I'd be on my way back to Veron and my future.

I should have known my biggest haul ever wouldn't go right.

Nothing ever went right for me. The fucking universe always did what it could to fuck me over. Why should this have been any different from the rest of my life?

Grabbing the last blaster from its assigned holster, I walked back over to my captain's chair and sat down and had to hold back a sigh of relief. It felt so good to rest my sore body. There had only been a few times in my life where my pain was so severe and those times I knew the pain wouldn't kill me.

This time, I wasn't sure.

I could still feel a steady trickle of blood running down the side of my face from the head wound and it felt like my skull was in a vice. My vision blurring around the edges with the pain. I could barely breath without stabbing pain ripping through my chest and stomach, and I could barely move the leg that was shot with a blaster and my shoulder was seriously fucked.

Taking aim for the cockpit's threshold, I waited much like I had done when Rickenn had made his unwanted entrance. If I was lucky? They would kill me. If my luck stayed true to form? I would end up in a work camp with a guaranteed life sentence.

Either way I would be legendary just for the fact I stared down the IEC.

It was a win-win at this point.

That thought brought me a shred of peace even as I heard the hard steps outside the cockpit threshold. "This is Commander N'Vorti of the Intergalactic Enforcement Corps. Your ship has been boarded and seized under Galactic Law Article SO-373. Set down all blasters or hand-to-hand combat weapons and surrender yourself into our custody or we will be forced to use whatever force we deem necessary to bring you to heel."