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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/KamchatkasRevenge on 2025-11-26 22:28:20+00:00.
The trio of smugglers - really two spies and a lost-in-the-sauce air biker with no idea just what she’s actually getting her snout in to - are up in the cockpit of the not so good ship Kalidies Razor, which Nadiri has officially decided needs to be turned into real razor blades.
The damn thing is frankly excruciating to inhabit; if not for its decent drive core and very functional and well-crafted smuggling compartments, the whole damn thing would be a lost cause. Maybe the maintainers in the Nightstalkers and Diana's specialist mechanics in intelligence could make the thing a bit more functional, but until then Nadiri is just anxious to be away from it.
Getting off this tub would mean that she could potentially call in to their handler and get details about whatever the hell had just happened. Or at least access a public terminal and see if something’s in the news.
A very cold knot in her gut is telling her that Jerry could have been hurt. Not that she’s truly worried about him being killed. She’s married to one of the most dangerous men in local space, and her sisters, adopted daughters and family retainers include some of the more dangerous women in local space, all very serious about keeping their husband, father, commander or patriarch in one piece.
He could have been hurt, though.
That’s very concerning to Nadiri.
Shalkas, too. Of course. Her would-be sister and the current heiress of the title of 'admiral's girlfriend' had picked up on the same concern as soon as Nadiri had briefed her about the changes. The slight edge of anxiety in their Black Khans contact's voice had told Nadiri loud and clear that something very big had happened back on-planet, and that the Black Khans had some outright panic in their leadership.
A panic which makes the cargo of weapons the Kalidies Razor was carrying all the more vital.
Nothing particularly special as weapons go: mostly crates of mid-grade railguns and the like, normal enough to move around and sell in the white, gray or black markets. Still, there are a few big, shielded boxes back there that suggest heavy weapons to Nadiri. Maybe even some suits of power armor.
Someone’s arming up; maybe this had been for a client initially, but Nadiri suspects this gear is going directly into the Black Khans' own armories now.
Coopting weapons shipments you'd previously intended to sell is a classic move for military powers doing heavy arms trading in wartime, and criminal groups at this scale are no different than any other. Especially not with actual military-grade gear like power armor.
Luckily, her husband has much nicer power armor than your average Black Khan could get her hands on, and even stark naked could use Apuk warfire to rip a bad girl out of her power armor like he’s opening a can of meat or something.
Hell, she'd seen Jerry do just that back on Hag's End, during what ended up being an aborted escape from the Hag's clutches. Freshly awake from a somewhat crude surgery and still a bit woozy from painkillers and a forced healing sleep to get him sealed back up after Ekrena had gotten the biological bomb out of his system, Jerry had gone through a heavily armed and armored squad of pirates in just a skimpy pair of shorts in the literal blink of an eye.
That beast of a man hadn't even been wearing shoes.
Such warm thoughts are good for Nadiri's morale, but they’re also rather distracting; she settles for finishing her final checks on a couple of the actually nice systems that this tub has, controlled from a hidden security room in one of the crew quarters behind a false panel. Originally Nadiri had been planning to handle that, but Nikrit... had done decently on this trip, so Shalkas had proposed giving her the task of juggling the transponder and other systems that would let the Kalidies Razor 'vanish' from air traffic control... Even as the ship's transponder carries on to at least near the destination that was in their flight plan.
They'd already cleared customs in orbit, after all, so there isn't any chance of them being run down... most likely. Especially not if Nikrit does this right.
"Alright. So. Got everything? Any questions about the plan and what we're gonna do?"
Nikrit nods fervently. "Yes'm! When we hit the right altitude, you'll give me the signal. Then I launch the drone with the duplicate transponder using the red button. Then I flip this switch to turn off our transponder. Then once you give me the signal I reactivate the transponder using the codes for regular local surface to surface drone cargo traffic. Then I hit the power cut off to these systems, get out of this room, seal it, and use the hidden control system to vent the atmosphere and trigger the sensor scramblers to make sure it looks like a normal chunk of bulkhead. Then I strap my ass in, down near the hold, and be ready to get the ramps down so we can offload cargo."
Nadiri nods. "Yep. Perfect. Do this right and we'll be sure to throw you a bit more of a cut than we were going to give you. That's on top of making sure you get the same bonus the Black Khans are paying us."
"...Shit. That could be a decent amount of creds."
"This is the exciting part, kid. Long and boring, occasionally terrifying, but like I said earlier, then you get a nice fat purse and it makes everything better."
"You can count on me!"
Nadiri nods and ducks out of the room, making her way back up to the cockpit; she drops into the seat next to Shalkas, who greets her with a rumble.
"Kid, you ready?"
"Yep. All set."
Nadiri cuts the intercom as Shalkas looks over at her friend.
"She's done good. I like her."
"I know you like her."
The two women work in silence as Shalkas puts the nose of the Razor down; it starts to glow red as they pierce through the atmosphere of Canis Prime. Both women know exactly how critical a stage of flight breaking atmo is. One wrong move here would be a ticket to the kind of death that’s so fast and brutal that all the axiom in the galaxy couldn't help you.
The moment of danger passes quickly, however, and Nadiri's smoothly talking to air traffic control, relaying their course and getting their clearance down to altitude.
The moment’s quickly approaching when Nikrit would get a chance to really fuck this up for them. Nadiri watches the altimeter click down quickly before it slows slightly as Shalkas smoothly arrests their descent and actually starts the Razor flying instead of merely falling.
Her eyes lock on the altimeter as their target height is hit and she smacks the crew intercom. "Now!"
Nadiri resists holding her breath for a few moments until she 'feels' a slight 'thump' reverberate through the spaceframe of the ship as the drone detaches.
"Drone's clear!" Nikrit calls over the intercom - and Shalkas smoothly pulls away before diving down, to get to a slightly less conspicuous altitude., A glance at the communications control panel tells Nadiri that Nikrit has the new transponder on.
Maybe Nadiri had been a bit too harsh on the kid.
Finally the intercom crackles again; "Everything's secure. I'm strapped in down in the forward cargo bay."
"Nice work, Nikrit. Keep tight till we're on the ground and the cargo's with the client, and you'll be able to say you successfully completed your first run as a greenhand."
She cuts the channel and goes back to her work as Shalkas guides them onto their new course, moving slow and gentle and drone-like as they cruise into an industrial area at the edge of High Canis. Before long, they get a beacon sent to their system automatically, and a badly rusted landing bay starts to open up. It's lost in the industrial mess of the area... and as the doors slide open and Shalkas switches them to a hover, quickly sending them down the shaft, Nadiri can tell it goes deep too.
A hangar flashes by as the outer doors close behind them, and then a second inner door at the hangar level. Likely done up to look just like the floor of any other hangar bay, with no sign that anything was beneath it.
They glide down the tunnels into the bowels of the city and even the bowels of the planet as Nadiri keeps an eye on the Razor's sensors to make sure all of this is logged in the secret system they'd brought with them to later pass to the Undaunted.
This has to be it.
They've been brought into the heart of the Black Khans facility in High Canis.
Whatever had happened, it must have really been a mess.
Before long, they're on the ground, and Nikrit is calling out that she's getting the bay doors open as Shalkas and Nadiri finish their shutdown check list.
"Alright. Let's go get paid, Nalkra... I'm excited to see what this bonus looks like."
"Heh. Won't say no to extra creds, sides if they're paying bonuses, I bet they've got more work for us..."
Shalkas says that just loud enough to be heard as they walk down the boarding ramp, where a familiar, rough looking, Cannidor woman is waiting for them with a couple bodyguards. The woman who had hired them initially back at the Blood Oath and never bothered to introduce herself. She has scars all over her visible body behind her clothes, which consisted of a decent looking suit with plenty of room for a few concealed weapons.
Gangster business casual in a sense, a statement of rank as much as anything, saying that she no longer had to get her hands dirty personally. She scowls in what Nadiri would guess approximates a greeting in her culture… and, j...
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