Silence
Anonymous Me
@jrusso20
Killian stared at his cargo in the bay of the ship. It was a pathetic load. That was the life of smuggling. Sometimes you had to collect a few bigger boxes to make it look like you were legitimate. This wasn’t nearly large enough but, he was getting paid some good money to make the transport. Sitting in the local pub he waited around to hear if there was anyone else that wanted to have a good sized load sent onto one of the systems inside the alliance.
The outskirts had always been wild and he loved it. Getting contraband from the territories to the alliance was difficult. It didn’t come without its rewards. He made some good money on the last round. Lost a crew member, but that was the reason that he didn’t hire men with families. Those on board the ship were family and that was all the better it got.
Though in this line of work trouble was never far behind. The door flew open and of course there came the patrol from the alliance. They were going to be checking every ship at port before they left. This was another one of their stings that they frequently felt the urge to conduct. He couldn’t have his client’s merchandise get found either. This was some touchy stuff. Carefully getting up from his table he took his mug back to the counter and laid the coin with it in front of the tender.
All the bar tenders around here knew who the smugglers were and they kept mum about it. Killian brushed a hand through his wavy dark hair and sighed. Bumping into a compliance officer he grinned. “Sorry.” A hint of alcohol on his breath seemed to be convincing enough and he walked toward the bathroom. Before he reached the door he cut sharply to the left and headed out the back door. He needed to get his ship off the ground before they asked for his papers and permissions. Those were gonna show a heap of things he couldn’t afford to be seen by the authorities. Such as unlogged material being transported.
“Hey we gotta get moving.” His raspy voice sounded as he nodded to his engine man. The grease stained face almost seemed to inflate with worry as he raced for the engine room. Always the worry wart. Killian began pulling the ramp up when he felt a sharp sting run along his arm.
Hissing he whipped around and spotted a compliance officer on board the ship. “You son of a bitch.” The back hatch was already closing and the ping of bullets were a good indication that he couldn’t afford to open it and throw the man out. So instead he was stuck with having to try and disarm him here and now. Then the compliance officer could be part of illegal activity. Throwing his full and lean 230 pound weight body at 6’7” toward the man the two of them tumbled to the floor together with limbs in every which direction.
Killian stared at his cargo in the bay of the ship. It was a pathetic load. That was the life of smuggling. Sometimes you had to collect a few bigger boxes to make it look like you were legitimate. This wasn’t nearly large enough but, he was getting paid some good money to make the transport. Sitting in the local pub he waited around to hear if there was anyone else that wanted to have a good sized load sent onto one of the systems inside the alliance.
The outskirts had always been wild and he loved it. Getting contraband from the territories to the alliance was difficult. It didn’t come without its rewards. He made some good money on the last round. Lost a crew member, but that was the reason that he didn’t hire men with families. Those on board the ship were family and that was all the better it got.
Though in this line of work trouble was never far behind. The door flew open and of course there came the patrol from the alliance. They were going to be checking every ship at port before they left. This was another one of their stings that they frequently felt the urge to conduct. He couldn’t have his client’s merchandise get found either. This was some touchy stuff. Carefully getting up from his table he took his mug back to the counter and laid the coin with it in front of the tender.
All the bar tenders around here knew who the smugglers were and they kept mum about it. Killian brushed a hand through his wavy dark hair and sighed. Bumping into a compliance officer he grinned. “Sorry.” A hint of alcohol on his breath seemed to be convincing enough and he walked toward the bathroom. Before he reached the door he cut sharply to the left and headed out the back door. He needed to get his ship off the ground before they asked for his papers and permissions. Those were gonna show a heap of things he couldn’t afford to be seen by the authorities. Such as unlogged material being transported.
“Hey we gotta get moving.” His raspy voice sounded as he nodded to his engine man. The grease stained face almost seemed to inflate with worry as he raced for the engine room. Always the worry wart. Killian began pulling the ramp up when he felt a sharp sting run along his arm.
Hissing he whipped around and spotted a compliance officer on board the ship. “You son of a bitch.” The back hatch was already closing and the ping of bullets were a good indication that he couldn’t afford to open it and throw the man out. So instead he was stuck with having to try and disarm him here and now. Then the compliance officer could be part of illegal activity. Throwing his full and lean 230 pound weight body at 6’7” toward the man the two of them tumbled to the floor together with limbs in every which direction.
