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The Smuggler and the Princess

by DocDelray

Chapter 8: Just Another Tuesday

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“Pssst, Ortell,” a harsh, graining voice whispered to him from the darkness, “time to wake up!”

Before Simon knew what was going on, something very solid slammed into the side of his face. Waking with a start, he found the less than towering but surprisingly intimidating form of Vrax looming over him. The Ubese grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him from the chair that had been his bed and into a savage knee that bit its way into his gut.

Simon gasped out pain and fell to his hands and knees. His mind raced, trying to figure out how he’d been able to track him down so easily. He was certain he’d covered his tracks and there was no way he could have found him so easily.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Vrax asked through a chuckle. “Not half as bad as getting sucked out into the void, but still painful I’m sure.”

It was then, the pain burrowing into his mind and body gave way enough to let him hear the screams coming from the back rooms, he knew that scream. “R-Rarity!?”

“Is that her name?” His attacker asked before a kick was lodged into his side, sending him sprawling across the floor. “We didn’t stop to ask, a bit rude of us, I know, but we were in a hurry. I wasn’t sure if shooting that old man at the front door had woken you up or not. As you can no doubt hear though, some of the boys took a shine to her. You’d be proud though, took her this long to even make a peep, just laid there glaring, not wanting to give the satisfaction, you know the whole bit right.”

Vrax took a knee next to Simon, gripping him violently by the hair and yanking his vision to meet his visor. “They must be doing something really nasty back there to finally get her to scream like that.”

Simon had heard enough! The Human launched himself forward with a wide blow from his right arm. His target however simply let the blow slip past him as he leaned back. Vrax’s grating laugh poked away at him before another angry blow struck the side of his face. Simon rolled away from his enemy to gain a touch of breathing room and get to his feet. He had to find away to beat this guy but the sounds of Rarity’s pained cries from afar made it hard for his mind to focus. This was an opening that Vrax was fast to capitalize on with a fresh flurry of blows that tore into his victim’s body.

Fear and pain gripped his body and his mind. Every move Simon made, his opponent was able to easily counter it before meting out a savage assault all his own. His vision had clouded from the blood and sweat while the side of his face was swelling up. A sharp pain bore into his left arm, he was sure that it had been broken or at least was close to it now. He felt a trickle of something warm rolling down the side of his neck and called his attention to the blood flowing from the side of his mouth.

Simon reared back to throw yet another desperate punch at the Ubese standing before him. He was practically half the smuggler’s size, but still hit like an angry Bantha. Yet another quick blow to his gut quickly reminded him of that as his blow was harmlessly knocked aside. He could swear that he could see him smirking behind that lifeless mask of his.

Gloved fingers took him by the throat in a vice grip that couldn’t seem to decide if it wanted to choke him or just crush his neck. Simon fought uselessly against the squeezing grip that Vrax had on him. As the arm retracted, he found himself falling to his knees against the smaller alien’s superior strength. He tried his damnedest to keep a spark of defiance in his eyes and keep hidden the fear he was feeling right now.

“Look at it this way, Ortell,” Vrax’s gravelly voice wheezed out, “you don’t have to see what my men did to your Force Witch. In fact, you don’t have to worry about much anymore.”

Vrax’s grip on his throat tightened and cut off what very little air had been barely filling his lungs. Simon watched as the Ubese brought his free hand back for one more blow. This was going to be the one that killed him, Simon knew that. He was powerless to stop all of this, he was no match for Vrax and now he was going to die by the blood thirsty thug’s hands. Shutting his eyes tightly, he braced himself for the final blow while the sounds of his companion’s screaming filled his ears.

SIMON!” His eyes sprung open to find himself staring up into those large deep blue eyes. Rarity was looming over him, a look of worry and concern on her face as she stared down at him. “Simon, are you alright?”

Simon’s mind struggled to grasp what he’d just been through. His body was still wracked by a dull pain that refused to leave him be despite having long since worn out its welcome. A burning sensation in his lungs drew his attention to the fact that he was out of breath. Beads of icy cold perspiration soaked his entire body. Her eyes were still boring into him, demanding to know what was wrong.

“I’m fine, Princess, just fine,” he said with a forced smile. “It was nothing, just a bad dream is all.”

The way his voice shook and the fearful look in his eyes told her that more than he was willing to speak up about. Still, she had already seen first hoof what happens when one tried to pry information from the young spacer. Rarity felt no desire to start her first morning away from her home planet with an argument.

With a forced smile of her own, she let him be. “Alright then, darling, if you say it was nothing.”

Sitting up properly, Simon began rubbing the last remnants of sleep from his eyes. The painkillers he’d been taking the night before had clearly begun to wear off as dull pain seeped from one end of his body to the next. With his vision cleared, Simon took notice of his Equestrian companion who had begun to busy herself with yet another project. A pile of clothes and fabrics were sprawled out on the floor and table at the center of the room with the beginnings of yet another outfit. One other thing he took notice of was the black shirt that was draped around her body that hung around her a bit awkwardly.

“I hope you don’t mind, Simon,” she said after taking notice of his gaze, “I had grown tired of that dreadful bath robe and your shirt was the only clean thing I could find on hoof.”

A devious grin slipped over his features. “No, that’s fine, but, you do know what it means when a woman wears another guy’s shirt right?”

Rarity barely looked up from her work. “Not entirely sure, is there some kind of fashion faux pas with it?”

After popping his stiff joints back into place, Simon crossed the room to slip up behind her. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he leaned in next to her ear and whispered. “It usually means that you slept with him.”

Simon had expected the posh girl to turn beet red at his teasing, to possibly turn around and yell at him yet again. What Simon had not expected though, was for her turn around bury her face into the side of his neck. A shiver ran down his spine when she breathed in deeply through her nostrils and drank in his scent.

“Simon, darling,” she breathed out in a husky tone, “the rumor mill and this shirt are as close to that level of intimacy you and I will ever get.” To add emphasis, she patted his cheek with her hoof.

Simon’s cheeks had begun to fill with long forgotten warmth at her words and her touch. His stunned silence had given room for the air to become filled with the soft sound of her giggling which reddened his cheeks all the more. He had to admit though, her coat certainly felt a thousand times softer than he’d assumed when looking at her.

“Whatever, Princess,” Simon snorted in retort in an attempt to not only save face but also distract from the warm tingle that still ghosted along his neck, “an over-privileged girl like you wouldn’t even know what to do with a guy like me.”

With her laughter finally under control, Rarity fixed a bemused grin on Simon. “And, what pray tell, sort of guy would that be? Let me guess, some tough guy with a chip on his shoulder that calls no pony master and makes his own rules?” She made very little effort to hide her sarcastic tone.

Grumbling a few choice words under his breath in annoyance, the tired smuggler made his way towards a thankfully still warm pot of caf. Pouring himself a mug, he gave quiet thanks to Lorn for having left this out for them. Taking a moment to lose his senses in the warm, bitter liquid’s strong aroma, he could feel his muscles already starting to relax.

Casting an eye on his companion’s hoofwork he couldn’t find the urge to suppress the obvious question. “So, what’s the deal with you and clothing anyways, it didn’t look like your world placed too high a priority on it when I was there.”

“Well, for starters, that little incident back on the station is a prime example.” She stated between stitches. “It is my misfortune to not be of a bipedal decent, for it seems that most quadruped species are assumed to be animals. A sense of style is a clear sign of intelligence I’ve always felt.”

Simon took a moment to turn this over in his head. “Well, yeah, I guess that makes sense, that guy did try to steal you after all.”

“Ugh, please don’t remind me,” she grumbled through a half hearted smile, “petting me on the head like that was going to “calm” me down while he tried to drag me away.”

“I warned him you had a temper.” Simon chuckled.

“As much as I abhor violence, it certainly gave him reason to think twice the next time he tries to foalnap somepony.” She said quite proudly.

Abhor violence,” Simon snickered between sips of caf, “says the girl who held a blaster to my head after knocking me senseless.”

“You did have me trussed up like a Hearth’s Warming Eve present.” She quickly reminded him.

“Only so Serif would think I was going to kill you.” Simon laughed happily.

With those words a cold pit formed at the bottom of his stomach. Serif, the man who’d paid him to deliver that mystery box that his Ubesse buddy was so keen to kill him over. The very same box that had been sucked out into space and was probably still floating around the Star Forge Nebula at that very moment. Simon was suddenly overcome with a sudden tired feeling that nearly buckled his knees.

His change in demeanor had not gone unnoticed. “Simon, darling, are you alright?”

“No, and neither are you,” he grumbled as he slouched onto the floor holding the sides of his head, “Serif was expecting that box to be delivered and for you to be a corpse. This is not good. That damned box is probably halfway to Coruscant by now.”

“Simon, what if I told you that only one of those was actually an issue?” Rarity asked with that beam of pride in her voice again.


Despite the pain running rampant through his body, Simon forced himself to his feet and out the front door. A pair of darkly tinted glasses fought back the ever ravaging sunlight that sought to torment him all the further and illuminated the bruises on his face. Pain, however, was something he could easily squelch at the moment, all thanks to ever boiling anger in his breast at the moment.

Beside him strode his Unicorn companion. Rarity had clad herself in a far more form-fitting outfit than the set of altered clothes she had worn during the exodus of Star Forge. An off white shirt and pants of a dulled brown color made the base of the outfit. Over her form was draped a sleeveless surcoat of a faded grey that reached down past her flank and barely avoided skirting the ground. In the back of his head, Simon gave thanks that she at least didn’t try to put on a fashion show.

Rarity beamed proudly over her latest creation. Unfortunately the fabrics used to create were not the most alluring or choice pieces, and considering the time constraint of a single night it wasn’t as fabulous as she’d like it. However, having been designed for an Equestrian body type, it felt far more comfortable against her fur than the clothing she had simply altered to fit herself. With a bit more time it could have been a bit more grandiose, but at least it seemed to fall in line with the general fashion sense of the galaxy.

“So, Princess,” Simon broke their somewhat comfortable silence, “when were you planning to tell me you grabbed the crate, before or after I got tortured?”

Rarity rolled her eyes with a huff as her nose turned into the air. “Really, Simon, it merely slipped my mind for a moment. Better to learn we still have it after the fact than to have truly lost it,” she quipped in reply.

With an annoyed sigh, Simon’s shoulders slumped. “Fine, I guess this doesn’t make it as bad as things could be.”

“What is our plan now, Darling?”

“After you show me we really have the crate, you’re going right back to Lorn’s.”

“What-”

Before Rarity could start on a tirade, Simon interjected. “My plan, from that point, is to contact Serif and complete this damned job. After that, I’ll come right back and pick you up to finish yours.” He didn’t have to look at her, he could feel those huge blue eyes boring holes into him. “Look, Princess, this whole thing keeps going from bad to worse and I can’t guarantee your safety. Force only knows how bad this thing is going to get from here.”

On that cue, a pair of ragged looking nonhumans stepped out from a side alley with blasters drawn. Brought to a stop, the sounds of three other blasters priming could be heard behind them. Five armed and clearly dangerous looking aliens had surrounded the pair with weapons trained on them both.

“What were you saying about things getting worse?” Rarity asked sarcastically.

“I didn’t think we’d get a bounty this fast,” he muttered to her.

“Vrax put a pretty high one on the pair of you, said he wants you both alive,” the closest armed gunmen informed them.

“Oh, well, alive is good,” Rarity chimed in happily.

“So he can kill you himself,” One of others added.

“Of course he does…” Simon grumbled while he stared down the barrel of a blaster.

“It’s a pretty nice stroke of luck that you two just happened to be walking down the street just as the bounty went up,” one of the thugs happily pointed out. “This is gonna be the easiest two thousand we’ve ever made!”

“Wait, what?!” Simon snapped at the gunman over his shoulder. “You mean to tell me we’re only worth a thousand each?”

“Actually you’re only worth four hundred credits,” the thug pointed out. “She’s worth sixteen hundred, Vrax really wants to get his hands on your girlfriend, man.”

“I don’t believe this garbage…” Simon growled in ever growing anger. “I’m a professional criminal at times and I’m worth less than her?”

“Gentlecolts, if I may?” Rarity inquired as she took a few brave steps forward towards the obvious leader. “There is no reason this must devolve into violence.”

The five armed thugs shared confused looks with one another before their leader leveled his weapon with the Unicorn’s left eye. “Ya know what lady, you’re right, this doesn’t have to get violent, just come with us quietly and we can get this whole thing over and done with.”

“Ah, an open dialogue, so good to see that manners aren’t given a backseat throughout the galaxy,” Rarity happily gushed. “Now then, sir, if you wouldn’t mind, should my companion and I choose to take you up on your ever so gracious offer, we will need to discuss our travelling arrangements as well as sleeping quarters and dietary issues.”

Trying not to lose his obviously held back laughter, the lead gunman snickered and waved her on with his weapon. “By all means ma’am, tell us how we can make your travel with us more comfortable.”

“Excellent!” she cooed. “How refreshing to meet such well mannered stallions, you should really be taking notes, Simon.”

Simon’s mind had been hard at work trying to find a way out of this latest mess when Rarity decided to chide him once again. If he drew his weapon they’d just mow them down. If tried to get Rarity to do that teleportation thing again they might end up halfway inside a wall. Just as he was about to entertain the idea of something involving a Kath Hound and a Disruptor Mine, Simon noticed that soft blue aura from so many times before around Rarity’s horn.

Quickly realizing the mare’s plan, he jumped into the conversation. “Yeah, trust me guys, you do not want to see how she gets when you don’t provide for her every whim and need.”

Rarity shot him a pleasant smile and a wink when he began helping with her plan. “Oh yes, you see, we Unicorns are creatures of very delicate nature. I will of course require a strict vegetarian diet, meat plays havoc on our systems you see. Then I’m going to need a clean bed with well laundered sheets, no less than a thread count of four hundred mind you, any less and I can NOT get any sleep, believe me I have tried. Access to a bathroom and or similar facility that has been thoroughly cleaned and disinfected, I mean this as no personal slight but I would prefer to not come down with any kind of alien disease that my pony system is unprepared for,”

The assembled mercenaries were clearly starting to no longer find her ramblings amusing as she continued to list her demands, over and over again. Finally no longer able hold his anger in check, the lead thug narrowed his gaze on the chattering Unicorn. “Alright, I think I’ve heard quite enough of your “requirements” lady. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but we have you outnumbered and outgunned, so I think we’ll just be-”

His words fell as flat as he did upon his face when a heavy object connected swiftly with the back of his head. In a likewise manner, his companions fell to the same fate as a series of loud THUNKS filled the air.

With a pleased smile, Rarity trotted forwards to the unconscious leader of the bounty hunters and bent down beside his ear. “It’s a shame you didn’t notice the levitating debris behind you or your companions, darling.” She cheerfully pointed out before strutting her way past him. Glancing over her shoulder at Simon, she gave him a teasing wink. “Now then, Ortell, what was it you were saying about things being too dangerous for me?”

Before he could make any kind of crass comment on her abilities a red hot kinetic bolt of energy zipped through the air near his head and struck the side of a building. On instinct, Simon dropped low and drew his pistol. Another pair of armed thugs were already letting several fresh energy bolts fly when the smuggler let loose his own barrage. A hail of blaster bolts, that struck everywhere but their targets.

There was a brief and awkward pause between Simon and the bounty hunters as they all three stared in disbelief at wayward blast marks around the ground and shop walls. Before either side could snap back to cohesion, Rarity’s aura snagged her companion by the arm and began dragging him quickly down a nearby alleyway.

“That was quite possibly the worst shooting I have ever seen in my life, and my species has just now started learning about blaster technology!” the Unicorn scolded him.

“I’m a better pilot than a shot, okay!” Simon shouted back as he began to join her in a full on run for their lives.

As they rounded a corner, someone shouted out their location before a few more blaster bolts rang out striking the ground and walls near them. “How many of these blasted bounty hunters are in this town!?” Rarity complained before ducking into the next alley.

“We’re on the fringe of civilized space,” Simon informed her as he fought to keep up with the obviously faster mare, “this place is a prime spot for any spacer, smuggler and of course bounty hunter to stop and fuel up before hitting the deep end of the Outer Rim. And I think they’re more interested in getting you than me Ms. Sixteen Hundred!”

“Are you really going to get mad about that now!?”

Their escape came to a dead halt when they found themselves facing a dead end in their way. Turning to make for a quick exit, they found themselves face to face with a pair of humanoids pointing blasters at them. “That’s far enough, you two!” The tallest of the pair informed them.

“You sure these are the pair from that holo you saw?” his companion asked.

“And just how many humans do you know that are running around with four legged aliens? ‘Sides, they look dead on like the holo, man.”

From what Rarity had learned of the various races of the galaxy, she could see that these two were most likely rather young, perhaps barely within their teen years. Their faces held a youthful touch to them and neither seemed able to hold their weapon steady as if fearing it more than those they pointed them at. Narrowing her eyes dangerously, the mare took several steps towards the pair.

“Hey, we said to hold still horn-head!” one of the teens yelled at her.

“And just what exactly do you two think you’re playing at!?” she snarled at the pair.

Both teenagers flinched at her harsh words but quickly forced themselves to meet her glare. “H-hey, we don’t have to take lip like that from you, we’re freaking bounty hunters lady! Besides,” his tone became a lore bolder, “we’ve got the guns and that means we control the situation.”

Rarity’s eyebrow quirked at this idea, “Is that how things work?”

In a flash of blue energy, the blasters were ripped from the hands of the young man and levitated into the air. The weapons made a swift about face and now leveled themselves with their former wielders. Both young men began falling over one another as they scurried and fought to back pedal and run away from the irate Unicorn.

“And don’t let me catch either of you ever doing anything like this again!” She shouted at the boys as they ran screaming from the alleyway.

“Jeez, Princess, I’d almost forgotten how scary you can be when you’re angry,” Simon chuckled.

With an annoyed huff, Rarity dropped the weapons into a nearby refuse bin before slamming the lid shut. “Yes, well, their foalish behavior aside, what is our plan now? I highly doubt these ruffians are going to let us leave the planet.”

“Yeah, and sending you back to Lorn would only be putting him in unnecessary danger,” Simon admitted. “Looks like it’s on to plan B.”

“And what is plan B?’

“Real simple,” Simon replied as he inched his way to the edge of the alley’s end and checked for any of their pursuers, “we get to the ship and get the hell off this planet.”

“Simple indeed,” Rarity commented with a wry smile, “and just how do you plan on getting us there with an entire city looking for us?”

With a cocksure grin, Simon produced his comlink from one of the pouches on his belt. “With a little help of course.”


The quiet and uneventful nature of this afternoon had given the ever wandering mind of the droid R8-Z7 to explore further concepts of being. At times he brushed on the taboo ideals of self awareness, an always dangerous subject for one’s circuits to focus on, ever obedient programming however kept these ideals at bay. Still, the concept of whether or not he could say he had any kind of taste due to it having been programmed, was an entertaining examination of self.

After all, most sapient species considered taste to be something that they honed and developed over time. A constantly changing and evolving thing, organics always seemed to excel at evolving.

The Master’s new companion no doubt was the reason for these sudden new subjects of study. During the construction of her new coverings, she had inquired much about galactic fashion senses. Being a droid he had very little knowledge on such things, however a quick trip through the holo-net educated himself enough to be of use to her. Now the ideas however lingered in his programmed brain, raising questions of whether or not a droid can develop a sense of taste and fashion.

These musings however came to a crashing halt when a light on the communications hub began flashing, accompanied by a loud beeping noise. Chirping and whistling excitedly, the round little droid made a quick B-line for the control panel. Master was calling, perhaps he had a new task for him!


“Are you certain this will work?” Rarity asked with a worried tone.

“I’ve never heard of it not working.” Simon replied as he led the pony through the cramped stairwell.

“And just how many times have you done this?”

Simon paused for a moment before flashing her a vaguely confident smile. “First time for everything right?”

Simon continued to lead her up the building they had ducked inside of. It was a less than exquisite apartment building just north of the market district. The worn wooden floor boards creaked and groaned under their feet and hooves as they moved at fast pace through the building. The dimly lit hallways with the occasional bits of garbage and refuse were very little improvement on the streets they had left behind, though provided a touch of security that the streets obviously lacked. Still, the feel of lingering eyes from the peep holes kept both the dressmaker and the smuggler on high alert.

In time the tightly packed feeling of the stairwell gave way to the wide open sky and roof top. Stepping out onto the rooftop, Simon and Rarity both dashed for the nearest piece of cover they could spot, the rickety remains of an air conditioning unit that more than likely no longer worked. Scanning the skies and keeping a tentative eye on the surrounding buildings, Simon retrieved his com-link once again.

“Z, we’re on the roof, get your metal butt in gear!” Excited whistles and beeps sounded from the other end of the communicator. “At the moment, I frankly do not care what the control tower is telling you. We’re sitting ducks up here Z,”

After a few more chirps from the droid, Simon returned the com unit to its compartment on his belt. “So, Princess, how good of a shot are you?” He asked while producing a small hook connected to a thin strip of rope that fed into yet another belt compartment.

“Probably better than you,” she teased him while continuing to scan the area for any signs of the ship.

“You better be right about that,” Simon stated as he loaded the grappling hook onto the end of his blaster, “because we only get one chance at this.”

Before he could hand the weapon off to the mare, several blaster bolts struck the side of their makeshift cover. The pair ducked away from the impact on reflex just before several others started striking their position.

“Didn’t they say that Vrax wanted us alive!?” Rarity shouted over the sounds of blaster bolts striking metal.

“They’re keeping us pinned down,” Simon snarled as he shrank back from a bolt that struck the ground near his leg, “their friends are probably on the way up here.”

The sounds of roaring engines overhead sent a wave of relief through Simon’s core as he spotted his beloved ship flying close to the small city’s rooftops with the gangway down. “Alright, Rarity, you’re up!”

Levitating the weapon turned grappling gun, she began taking careful aim at the closing ship. “Now is probably a bad time to mention I’ve only fired one of these twice.”

All the color flushed from Simon’s face at this revelation. Before he could interject however, she sent the tethered hook flying through the air. Time slowed to painful crawl as the projectile inched its way towards the ship. Over his shoulder he could hear the sound of the door to the roof being kicked open, but his eyes refused to pull away from sight of the hook flying towards the ship. His heart skipped a beat when the grappling hook actually managed to strike just beside the gangway and magnetically latch tightly against the hull.

Simon’s arms tightly looped around Rarity and held her against his chest. “So, uhm, this is probably going to hurt, a lot.” He warned before they yanked into the sky by the surprisingly strong thin rope attached to his belt.

Sure enough, a blinding pain rocketed through Simon’s body as the injuries from the beating he’d taken from Vrax were reawakened. Rarity was no better off as the human’s arms tightened around her nearly squeezing her uncomfortably when she was yanked roughly into the air. The roar of the ship’s engines drowned out their own screams as they were hoisted into the mid afternoon sky through hails of blaster fire. The device attached to Simon’s utility belt that had produced the thin cable had begun to retract and pull them closer to the ship as it flew well beyond the outskirts of the city.

In moments, the pair once again found themselves sprawled out on the cold metal floor of the ship after climbing back inside. Through a wall of pain, Simon forced himself to sit up and look to the mare in his arms. “So, was it good for you?” He joked with a roguish grin.

His joke was answered with a swift hoof to his chest that sent him rolling away from her. “Ugh, have some decorum will you, Ortell.”

There was little time to rest as a shrill siren split the air. “For the love of… Now what is it?” Rarity asked dejectedly.

“Probably some of their friends in starfighters coming to kill us.” Simon pointed out casually before he pulled himself back to his feet. “Things just keep getting interesting when you’re around, you know that.”

“All I wanted to do was sell my dresses.” Rarity hissed at him. “You’re the one bringing in the criminal element here!” She declared after getting to her hooves.

After scrambling to the cockpit, Simon quickly strapped himself into his seat and shouted at Rarity to do the same. “Things are about to get really bumpy, Princess.” He warned as his hands breezed across the controls at a swift practiced pace. Simon flashed her a wide arrogant grin. “Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”

The bulky but swift freighter cut a path across the sky over the planet Orrikal as five smaller, more agile craft followed after it. The fighters themselves were considerably more fragile by comparison to their bulkier prey. Two sets of wings and a pair of tails extended from the stout body of the crafts while a pair of engines kept them aloft. When the distance between them and Meaningless Venture began to close, they let lose a volleys of energy blasts from the weapons mounted at the tips of their wings.

True to his bragging, Simon began dancing and weaving the ship through the hail of blaster fire. The few bolts that could not be avoided struck mostly harmlessly against the thick shields of the star freighter. He could feel the frightened eyes of his passenger upon him with every shudder and shake when the fighters scored their hits.

“Z, see if you can’t knock a few of them off our tail,” Simon shouted at the droid.

Whistling in compliance, the astromech rolled itself over to one of the consoles and plugged into the well placed data-port. Within the span of a millisecond, his robotic brain had become one with the ship’s targeting and weapons systems. The large scale double barrel gun atop the vessel sprang to life and shifted to aim at the pursuing fighters. R8-Z7’s droid mind was able to run through the calculations and trajectories of his targets faster than any organic could.

The heavy dual blaster cannon fired a quick succession of blaster bolts that caught the lead ship by surprise. Starship grade bolts of energy ripped past one of the light pursuit fighters’ shields and tore the modest armor plating asunder. In a bright flash the ship was reduced to a smoldering pile of slag that was no plummeting towards the planet below. The plucky astromech behind the controls of the weapon let out a chirp of triumph over his victory.

“Great, Z,” Simon encouraged him. “Don’t get cocky!”

With their leader a smoking wreck falling to the surface, the other four fighters quickly broke off to gain distance and find a new avenue of attack. Simon quickly took the ship into a sharp climb into the upper atmosphere with his newly gained breathing room. Blue sky gave way to the deep black veil of space as the starship broke free of the earthly restrictions. A few flashes of blaster fire from behind however reminded them that they weren’t home free yet.

“Why haven’t we done that blue tunnel thing!?” Rarity asked with a healthy dose of panic.

“Couple reasons,” Simon snarled in a reply as he ducked the bulk of yet another volley of blaster bolts, “for starters we aren’t clear of the planet’s gravity well yet. Secondly, the engines need time to charge up to make the jump, on top of that the ship needs to align with the right Hyperspace route. All of this makes us a sitting target if those guys overtake us.

“Besides, a blind jump through hyperspace is a sure fire way to get yourself killed.” Simon continued as the ship rocked from another direct hit.

“Then what do we do!?”

In the distance was something that caught Simon’s attention. The main shipping lane of the planet, lines of ships of varying sizes and ships going to and from the planet’s larger settlements. A devious smirk tugged at the edges of his face while his hands gripped the controls tightly.

Rarity noted the sudden change in his demeanor and then the lines of ships ahead of them. “No, oh Celestia, please tell me you are not going to-“ her voice trailed off into a scream as the ship’s speed quickly jumped, speeding them head on towards the veritable wall of transports.

With several quick maneuvers, the Meaningless Venture slipped through the various lumbering transports and heavy duty freighters. The starfighters chasing after them may have had speed and maneuverability compared to their prey, but none of the remaining four pilots could have predicted the smuggler’s desperate and seemingly crazy gamble. The now leader of the mercenary pilots in particular had misjudged his craft’s position in the chase, his wing clipping the side of a massive transport. The small fighter lost control and found itself spinning off from the rest of the squadron and well into the droid controlled gun’s firing range.

Explosions mixed with blaster fire and ships cutting right through the main shipping lane began to sow all the chaos that Simon needed. The remaining three fighters found it much harder to keep up with him as they now had to duck and weave through the now panicking heavy freighters and transports as well as deal with any of their escort craft. Two of the star fighters were forced into crashing into one another resulting in another explosion that rocked the ship.

As the final fighter finally broke free of the chaos it found itself no longer the pursuer, but the pursued. The Meaningless Venture brought its game to bear with the tiny craft before unleashing a volley of heavy energy bolts. The smaller craft like the others was no match for the heavy blaster cannon. Within seconds the fighter craft is in vaporized in a burst of blaster fire.

“We’re all clear, set the coordinates, Z!” Simon shouted as he breezed his hands over the controls.

The black void of space began to shift and distort until in a bright flash it was replaced with the blue tunnel of hyperspace. With a sigh of relief, Simon fell back against his chair and finally let out the breath he’d been unconsciously holding. A pair of soft but amazingly strong limbs wrapped around his neck before he felt the silky touch of Rarity’s cheek against his. He couldn’t help but laugh along with the jubilant Unicorn as she celebrated their near death escape. Without thinking, his arms snaked around her and returned the hug.

There was an awkward silence however when the pair found themselves eye to eye. Just as quickly as it happened, the pair pulled away and returned to their seats. Simon kept the back of his chair to her as he pretended to be working on something with the ship. Rarity merely sat back in her chair and stared off at the effects of hyperspace.

“I believe I’ll retire for the time being.” Rarity said, breaking the silence. “Nearly getting killed certainly takes its toll.”

“Yeah, sorry about that again,” Simon replied still keeping his back to her. “We’ll be making a few random jumps to make sure we don’t get tracked. Go ahead and get some rest.”

He listened to the sound of her hooves on the metal floor of the ship as she made her exit from the cockpit. The smuggler couldn’t help but venture a glance past the high back of the seat and watch her leave before returning his full attention to the controls in front of him. A touch of red however entered his face as the ghostly warmth of her cheek against his still lingered.

Next Chapter: A Cold Night Estimated time remaining: 2 Hours, 20 Minutes
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