The regulated hauling business. Dirty. Exhausting. Low paid. But by the force, someone has got to do it.

The Elrood Sector

“Bonadan Lady to Elrood Control,” said Captain Chance Nichols.

“This is Elrood Control. Go ahead Lady.”

“I’ve got sixty thousand metric tons worth of used starship parts, leaking lubricant all over my main hold. I’d like to get us in port and unloaded before my crew and me drown.”

“Take a god damn number Captain. We’ve got crews working around the clock shifts, trying to get other ships unloaded. Your used starship parts aren’t a huge priority right now so wait you fracking turn.”

“Bonadan Lady out.”

Chance let out some frustrations with a sigh. His freighter had been in orbit for almost thirty hours now, and the ship desperately needed to land. The air Chance breathed had an oily taste to it. The life support systems we on the verge of failing due to the fumes coming off the inch of oil and lubricant that had leaked all over the Lady’s main hold.

The Vinda Corporation owned Sienar Ships Mark I Bulk Transport was truly on its last leg. Over the last couple of years it had taken the Bonadan-Elrood Trans-Galactic run at least a thousand times. Though usually a boring trip, the Bonadan Bitch, as it had been nicknamed by its crew, had dodged and narrowly escaped all too many New Galactic Coalition Battles and Black Dragon Empire blockades and “checkpoints.”

“What’s the damage Ken?” asked Chance to his first officer Ken Marshins.

“The air in the main hold is no longer breathable. If you go in there without some kind of radiation suit your minutes are numbered.”

“Radiation?”

“Yep… one of those parts is the fuel tank off of Clone Wars era Baktoid Fleet Ordnance Heavy Missile Platform droid gunship.”

“Yeah… so…?”

“This gunship used Phlac-Arphoc Automata Industries RXX Fuel. It’s some pretty nasty stuff. First of all, it’s denser than plutonium. Second of all enough of it can eat through an inch of duracrete. Luckily the tank was almost empty.”

“Aren’t fuel tanks like those designed to hold up for centuries?”

“Well… yes and no… Somewhere along the line the tank got a micro-fissure. I bet some salvager probably ripped straight out of a crashed gunship, and the bonehead screening the parts let it slip by. It probably reacted with some of the other oils and lubes leaking out and finally leaked. Berny is venting the hold atmosphere into space. Long story short, we’re going to have to get a DECON team in here when they finally let us land.”

“Are the habitation areas in any danger?”

“Not this time,” said Ken chuckling. “The sensors picked up the radiation early on, and the containment shields decided to function for once. So we’re in no danger of sterility or worse… an early demise.”

Chance looked around the not so roomy cockpit. This had been an all too long trip to Elrood. The New Galactic Coalition-Black Dragon Empire war had forced them to take the long way. Weeks cooped up in a starship could drive a man insane. And now, even being this close, they had to wait a little bit longer.

What poor luck.

“Let’s hope they let us land quickly. But hey… maybe a decaying orbit, leading to a fiery death to put us out of our misery wouldn’t be so bad…”

Elrood, high orbit

One could say that sometimes things had a way of working themselves out.

Due to the extreme “discomfort” that the long wait had caused to the Bonadan Lady’s crew, the port fees and tariffs had been waived by Elrood Control. They had also paid for the ship’s main hold to be decontaminated.

It beats a lawsuit right?

“That’s right Ken. Our Vinda Corporation contract prohibits us from suing the Elrood Port Authority for negligence resulting in endangerment. Section IX, paragraph four, Vinda Corporation Freelance Freighting Contract.”

“Could we sue the Vinda Corporation for failure to correctly screen said fuel tank?”

“That would be a negative. Section X, paragraph two.”

Ken stood up, and took his place at the ship’s controls.

“Well then let’s go. The sooner we leave, the sooner the Bonadan Lady is new razor blades…”

“Agreed. I never really liked the Elrood System anyway… All it is a bunch of fucking college kids, runnin' their fracking mouths about fuckin' war profiteers...”

Ken took the ships controls in his hands. As he flipped switches, Chance could hear a distinct sound: the thrusters we coming online and out of idol mode one by one. The ship vibrated for a few seconds then the smoothened out as everything equalized.

“Engines are looking good… wait… damn it…”

“What is it this time Ken?”

“The fuel line to engine three… It must have come loose when we brought the engines out of idol. I’ll shut engine three down. The Lady can limp home without it.”

The freighter began to crawl out of Elrood’s orbit. Getting clear of the planet’s mass shadow would take time, running at only seventy-five percent power, as if the Lady was not already slow enough.

Elrood’s twin moons, Lodos and Sharene gave way to impossibly large Degan Gas Clouds. Soon they two melted away to swirling shapes and colors of faster than light travel.

Later, the infinite depths of hyperspace

Chance tossed and turned in his cramped bunk. Above him, the ship’s crusty, old engineer, Berny emitted snores that would probably register a point five on the Richter Scale. The captain rolled over and pulled his pillow over his head. The snores returned in full force. He made a mental note to scrounge up some earplugs.

Chance pulled himself out of is bunk. He was not even tired, just following an old rule, put forth by a great man: sleep when you can, not when your tired, or something like that. Time was precious on a barely running, possibly irradiated freighter. Any free time was usually devoted to sleeping or eating.

The captain fumbled around in the dark bunkroom, looking for his tool belt and other essentials that a captain required. Then suddenly, the ship quaked violently, sending Chance headfirst into the piece of metal separating the two bunks.

Chance picked himself up, cursing loudly and rubbing his bruised and bleeding head. Throwing the still fast asleep Berny out of bed, he made his way for the bridge.

“Ken… what the fuck?”

Chance looked out the main viewer to see open space instead of the expected blue lines of lightspeed. He checked his chronometer. The ship should have still been in hyperspace for another four hours.

“Something brought us out of hyperspace… I’m not sure what though.”

Chance pointlessly ducked as a starfighter flew dangerously close to his freighter.

“Bring the shields up Ken.”

The first mate nodded, flipping a pair of switches to his left.

A quick look to the ship’s scanner revealed that another ship was approaching. A much larger ship.

“Get us out of here Ken.” Chance looked at the scanner again. “NOW!”

The ship filled the forward viewport now. It appeared to be a frigate, but something was different…

“That’s a gravity well generator strapped to the side!” said Ken, worry filled his voice.

The ship’s navicomputer finally showed where the ship was: the middle of Hutt Space.

“Just what we needed… Hutts…”