The Arrival

A tap on the shoulder took Turgen out of his slumber. It was B3N right next to him with an exclamation point on his screen, blinking away a few inches off the chef's face. The crew captain pressed the palm of his hand on the droid's facial display and pushed it away to sit himself straight.

"What's up, Ben?" Turgen asked, yawning loudly and rubbing his eyes softly.

"We will be entering the Thelvar System in a few minutes." answered the droid.

The chef gave B3N a thumbs up and then turned his seat one hundred and eighty degrees. Mirto and Trace were already standing at the ready for him, just the way he liked it. Turgen was a fun guy most of the time, but on mission, he ran a tight ship, just like any chef would run his kitchen.

"Mirto, is the gear set up?" He asked.

"Everything's in the hangar bay, ready to go." the veteran confirmed.

"IDs are all clear, the Feds won't be able to tell who we are." continued Trace, saving Turgen the time to ask the obvious question.

The captain raised the corner of his lips and turned himself back to his piloting console, satisfied of his crew's preparations. Without looking away from the windshield, he asked B3N:

"Do we have a station to spend a bit of time at? Might as well take in the sights..."

"Depends..." answered the droid, crossing its differently sized arms.

"You can come out of the ship..." added Turgen, already expecting the question.

"Oh! Then, yes!"

B3N joyfully ran back to his own console, taping away. An image of a station came to the hyper-glass window, obviously hooked up to support digital display. Ben instantly began presenting their landing destination.

"This is Trevek station, A small Federal forward outpost. They've been trying to get settlements set up on Thorboria for three months now. Unfortunately, the Parlosks and other predatory creatures, on top of the freezing environment, have made attempts difficult. They have lately issued a public reward to galaxy wide bounty hunters, offering to pay for every confirmed kill of such undesirables.'

"Place is gonna be crowded..." Understood Mirto.

"But also an easy opportunity to blend in." Added Turgen, able to find a loophole in the situation. "We've got the gear, we've got the ship, its perfect!"

"We've also got the relevant identification, when B3N gave me the information, I made some last minute edits. We are now "Top Dog Extermination" professional hunters!" Informed Trace, trying to impress Turgen.

"Nice, kid. Looks like this has the potential to be a no screw ups job!" Proudly said the chef. "I think were gonna inform ourselves on those reward bounties, really sell ourselves as legit... and who knows? Maybe we can take a few credits away from our Federal friends at the same time..." He chuckled.

"Anything to get back at the bastards..." Added Mirto, clenching his fists at the idea of a little revenge.

The corporation the veteran worked for, back in his contractor days, was heavily in-bedded in Federal politics. He knew the kind of things the government was ready to do to keep its agenda on track. It was the sole reason he had left, unable to stomach the schemes and the bullshit. At least criminals didn't hide the ugly parts of the job under an overload of paperwork...

"Fuck the Federation..." Continued Trace.

The young mechanic herself had grown up under Federal Law. Her father was a mechanic who owned a small garage on the local station of a system she no longer remembered. He raised her all alone, working with her as his personal helper ever since she could walk. Until the Feds found out he did side jobs for criminal gangs for extra credits... They sentenced him to twenty five years and put young Trace through the system. They tried throughout her entire teenage life to shape her into a well indoctrinated, docile citizen. When she was eighteen years old, she was free to leave and ran straight to the underworld. The skills she had picked up from her father had helped her survive on her own for a while, but she knew her best bet was joining a ship crew. She begged captain after captain to give her a chance, but only one ever said yes: Turgen. She actually saw him walking with an old busted prosthetic leg and told him she could fix it if he'd let her. The rest, was history.

Finally, the alarm to announce the ship was about to jump out of hyper-space resounded through the ship. Turgen grabbed his controls, ready to fly.

"Don't forget, this is Federal space, no going above one hundred miles a minute..." Reminded B3N to his master.

Suddenly, the tunnel of light started deforming, shaping itself back into stars and darkness. The engine made a long zooming sound, going back to a lower power consumption. They were back to normal space flight and, away in the distance, stood Trevek station, floating by its lonesome around the planet of Thorboria. There was definitely a lot of activity in the system... Right away, the chef noticed some small fighter patrols going ship to ship.

"Looks like were gonna get a scan... Bring up the IDs on my console, Trace." asked the captain.

The young mechanic quickly followed the order, taking out her console from her overall's front pocket and tapping away. Just as the information came in front of the chef, a notification came to B3N's side of the cockpit.

"A Federal patrol has established a communications request..." he explained.

"Put 'em through..." simply said Turgen.

The Federation Officer's voice came from the intercom, speaking plainly but with a hint of authority:

"This is officer Martinez, please state your business before you go any further."

The chef slowly pushed on the break pedal, obeying the demand and started reading off the IDs Trace had brought up for him.

"This is Captain Burns, Ship Name: Top Alpha, ID Number: TA101. We reprensent Top Dog Extermination. Heard y'all got some beasty problems?" He answered without stutter.

"Scan's clear, proceed to landing pad Zero Eight. Happy hunting, captain." Confirmed the officer, taking his patrol to another incoming ship.

Everyone on the bridge had a sigh of relief. As usual, Trace's work came through. Turgen took the ship slowly towards Trevek station, graciously entering through the port hole, keeping a safe distance from other moving space-crafts. Instantly, they could notice a Federal Destroyer floating over the landing area, surveying all the activity going on. This wasn't the place for some fancy flying... Turgen activated the vessel's landing gear, slowed down his speed further and gently landed the Flying Saucer. They had arrived...