Bull stood on the bridge of his main ship as the smaller raider docked into its underbelly with a dull metallic thud. The planet below shrank into a smear of dirty lights and toxic clouds on the viewport, the kind of place people forgot existed unless they were running from something or hunting someone. He flexed his right hand, still flesh back then, the knuckles scarred but intact, and exhaled through his nose.
"Seal it," he said, voice rough but steady.
The woman from earlier moved to a console and tapped a few commands. "Docking complete. No pursuit. Local authorities pretended not to see anything, as usual."
Bull snorted. "They always do. That's why this place keeps breathing."
