Enter stage left .....

The cockpit was dark as space itself with exception of the control lights. Baxter Sallian looked over and saw nothing spectacular in the hyperspace computer. Shifting in his chair, Baxter adjusted his blaster holster. Times seemed to be getting rough. Since the rebellion's miracle shot which destroyed the Imperial Death Star, Imperial patrols appeared to be everywhere. More patrols meant more work both in space and at the spaceports. Legit work was hard enough to come across without the excess permits, docking fees and operating costs. In retrospect the legit work being stressed by new factors had increased clients looking to get around such restrictions. It was a never ending cycle verses moral right and wrong.

The hyperspace computer was luckily holding its own. Good in the sense that a new one would be worth more then the whole ship. Credits, unfortunately, Baxter did not have. The last job had drained his credits to fumes. Thank the force that the last corrupt custom agent didn't demand any more credits to go to his "generosity fund".

"Running out of options you space dog." Baxter muttered to himself. He just shook his head and wondered why in the name of the force he was heading to Denophan. The Empire had a very firm hold on the planet and its citizens. There was also news of the system's Sun turning into a supernova status. He was amazed how the Empire kept information regarding that from the citizens. No matter not his hide that was suck on that planet. Credits were for the taking and he felt this time his luck would catch up to him.

"Wonder what the food processor has on the dinner menu?" Baxter thought as he left the cockpit.