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Karina followed him uneasily into his quarters. She knew he enjoyed his privacy and how this room was his personal inner sanctum, and she felt like she was intruding by entering. It didn’t help when he stripped away his shirt and armor, leaving his chest exposed, revealing the scars and burns...

The Freebird ascended at a sharp angle, threatening to spill its contents out of the open boarding hatch as Crix’s droid executed their hasty escape. Karina threw an arm out to help the smuggler into his own ship, if only to keep him from flying out and adding to the pile of casualties they’d...

She laughed. Of course he was okay. She shouldn’t have cared and yet, she did. “Greedy bastard,” she said, the relief in her voice apparent as she helped the smuggler rise from the floor, applying some bacta spray on the gash smoking from his thigh. It was nowhere near enough to heal it, but...

Karina had been resting aboard the Freebird when she learned of the civil war racking the Za Fenn crime family. While she was not a member, she had worked closely with Preef during his last job—prior to his unfortunate death—so it only made sense that she had access to the secure broadcast which...

As Crix thankfully dealt with the guards, Karina returned her attention to Dima. She knew he might not recognize her with the helmet on, and while she hated the thought of exposing her identity to a smuggler she barely knew, if there was a way to save her brother, she didn’t care. Nothing...

Karina didn’t have to be told twice. The second Crix stepped in to save her, she scrambled to her feet, understanding that if there was a way to stop Dima, it must have to do with Kirigan. There had to be a special button. A switch. Something to bring back the boy she once knew, the brother...

“No!” she shouted as Dima threw aside the smuggler, sending him crashing through a row of art displays until he crumpled at the feet of a wooden sculpture. Fear and uncertainty swirled. What had happened to him? Something had changed in her brother, and it was not his age or height but his very...

Karina had a vague understanding of what to do. She saw it in the stance Crix took, the way his shoulders tightened and the slight shift in his gaze—not at her, but at Kirigan, seated comfortably ahead of her. You sly dog, she thought. Just as understanding clicked and the glass of wine tilted...

“Kirigan, we both know what it is I’m here for,” said Karina, her expression blank, but even with her modulator she could feel the unease in her voice. She had to tread lightly. “I’ve served you loyally for the last twelve years. Never complained. Never argued. I’ve killed so many of your...

“Nothing worth mentioning now. Just take it easy,” Karina answered. A voice in the back of her head told her this was foolish, that not explaining the situation with Dima would only make matters worse, but she didn’t remotely care. This was her business. Crix could bitch and whine all he wanted...

Five years. Karina thought he might explain, maybe feed her a story or an adventure or two about his time with the ship, but instead he stayed quiet, sipping his mug as if it was a healing tonic. Then, about as casually as he could, he rose and moved for his quarters. She shifted uncomfortably...

“You would sooner catch the edge of this knife before I take off this helmet,” said Karina, half a threat and half an attempt at sarcasm. She was starting to warm up to the smuggler. While she seriously doubted they would come to a point where she’d trust her life to him, for now, she could be...

“How’d you do?” Karina repeated back at him, then tilted her head back and laughed. “You shifted out of parking and jumped us into hyperspace. For a pilot, that is the equivalent of a ten-year old shitting in the toilet—it’s expected, and a little sad if they couldn’t stick the landing.” She...

“Thanks,” she said, settling into the lounge seat. “I will.” Karina knew it was not her place to take charge in another man’s ship, but this was her mission and with as many credits as she intended to sink in the smuggler, she would squeeze every amenity and benefit she could out of him. She...

“Cute,” Karina said upon inspection of his ship. “I see you’ve given her plenty of upgrades. Still, just because she looks like she can fly, doesn’t mean she will. I can only hope you’re as good a pilot as you claim.” She traced a gloved finger against the lower hull of the transport, as if...

“Five hundred a head? Don’t be ridiculous.” Karina about rolled her eyes into the back of her skull, and even masked, the smuggler could probably read her irritation like an open book. She would have much rather haggled him in return, drop the price to either nothing or at most half of his...

“I couldn’t care less if you believe it or not. You’re here for credits, and I’m here for a pilot that isn’t stupid enough to crash land into a cliffside wall. If you think you can do that, then you can have what you want.” Karina leaned against the counter, not bothering to sip from the glass...

Karina came dressed as she usually might: as someone else. Today she moved under the mask and identity of Ines, the legendary assassin known for his wealth of completed bounties, including that of Durr the Hutt, and the knives he always carried underneath his rippling cloak and smuggler’s...

Karina thought they might be able to drag the injured Hutt down the shaft—both as a compromise and a safety measure in case the vent led to, say, the incinerator—but she enjoyed this outcome much more. It would save them necessary time to escape, but Durr didn’t deserve another second to live in...

Just as she began slicing into the Hutt’s computer systems, Karina had realized the moving countdown in the corner of the screen. Her heart spiraled right into her gut. She stood there and stared at it for a second, unsure of what to do or if she could stop it, but it made no difference. There...