Smooth Criminal
You've been hit by... you've been struck by...
There are easier ways to make money. Kinley Pryse just finds those methods boring.
Ship: Canto Belle - Nar Shaddaa Docks
The neon glow of Nar Shaddaa bled through the haze of the docking bays, painting everything in bruised shades of purple, blue, and toxic green. Somewhere overhead, a freighter screamed off into the night while a dozen voices argued over fuel prices, docking fees, and debts that would probably end in blaster fire before sunrise.
Kinley Pryse walked through it all like she owned the moon.
Her coat swayed around her boots, hands shoved into her pockets, toothpick rolling lazily from one side of her mouth to the other. She didn't bother looking back. She didn't need to.
The engineer's footsteps echoed behind her. Steady. Then slower. Then silence.
Kinley's grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. There it is. The moment of doubt.
She kept walking, letting the silence stretch. Letting him wrestle with it.
Trusting Kinley Pryse wasn't something sensible people did. Sensible people crossed the street when they saw her coming. Sensible people locked their safes, checked their pockets, and counted their fingers afterward.
But sensible people also didn't usually find themselves desperate enough to be wandering the docks of Nar Shaddaa looking for miracles.
Or criminals.
Behind her, she heard the footsteps resume. Of course they did. Because desperate people always did stupid things. That was the beautiful thing about desperation. It narrowed the galaxy down to a handful of ugly choices until the worst option started looking reasonable.
If the engineer was following her through the underbelly of Nar Shaddaa, heading toward a ship captained by Kinley Pryse of all people, then things in his life were already far enough gone that trusting her probably wasn't even in the top five bad decisions he'd made that week.
"Come on then," she called over her shoulder when she reached the ship.
The ramp lowered and she headed up inside, letting it close behind him and locking in an ominous kind of way. She took a bottle down from a dusty shelf and put it on the table, then two glasses.
"So tell me about this bounty."
A Smooth Criminal