The Kessel Run is the famous one, but every smuggler has their shortcut through the graveyard. Mine took me through the ruins of a dead world—chunks of rock and iron where a planet used to be.
Didn't expect the pirates.
Three Z-95 Headhunters dropped from behind a tumbling asteroid the size of a city block. No warning, no hails. Just laser fire scorching my hull.
I took the Razor Crest deep into the debris field. Tight turns, stomach churning, proximity alarms screaming. My ship's not built for this kind of flying, but neither were theirs.
Lost one on a jagged rock formation that tore his wing clean off. Watched him spin into the dark. The other two were smarter, hung back, tried to box me in.
Used the Crest's dorsal cannon to blast a path through an unstable asteroid. The explosion took out the second pirate. Third one broke off when he saw his friends burning.
Made it to the rendezvous point with hull breaches in three sections and a cracked viewport. But I made it.
Some days, that's enough.
The damage was bad enough that I had to spend a few days on repairs. See Razor Crest Repairs for the full damage assessment.
This is the way.