The old VCX-1000 freighter, Ryn had named Grey Wake, came out of hyperspace at the edge of the Ord Mantell gravity well, its engines shaking a little before settling into a sound that Ryn had heard for years. Static cracked through the cockpit speakers.
“Unidentified freighter, transmit your registry and cargo details.”
The controller sounded half asleep.
Ryn snorted quietly and keyed the transmitter. Ahead of him, Ord Mantell City spread out beneath layers of smoke and industrial haze, towers of rusted metal stacked on top of older towers, blinking docking lights cutting through exhaust clouds, freighters crawling through traffic lanes like insects.
The so-called Bright Jewel system.
Yeah. Right.
Ryn guided Grey Wake down through the airspace to Pad 213D. Hydraulic clamps locked into place with a heavy metallic thud, followed by the sharp hiss of venting steam. Before he had even unstrapped himself from the pilot’s chair, dockworkers were already moving toward the ship. Ryn stood, stretching the stiffness from his back with a quiet grimace. He grabbed the datapad containing the cargo inventory, shrugged on his worn pilot jacket, and settled his hat onto his head before heading down the ramp.
A dock official waited near the foot of the ramp with a bored expression and a scanner in hand. Ryn handed over the datapad along with his well-forged identification cylinder.
“It should all be there,” Ryn said. “Rations, medical supplies, machine parts, and some random orders. Payment clears after inspection, right?”
The official scanned the cylinder, barely looking at him.
“Assuming everything checks out.”
Ryn gave a single nod. “Good enough for me.”
The unloading process took longer than he wanted. Crates disappeared into cargo haulers one after another while Ryn leaned against the landing strut and watched the organised chaos of the docks. Ships came and went constantly, battered freighters, corporate transports, bounty hunter gunships. Nobody paid attention to anybody else unless credits were involved.
Just how Ord Mantell liked it.
Once the last crate was hauled away and the payment transfer finally cleared, Ryn climbed back into the cockpit and guided the VCX toward one of the long-term parking pads further away from the main traffic lanes. The old freighter settled down with another tired groan from the landing gear.
He shut the engines down and sat there for a moment in the sudden quiet.
Then he grabbed his jacket again and headed out.