A map of his current location hovered to his left, various tactical solutions to his right. Directly ahead was the cockpit's view screen, currently filled with the streaking blue and white light if hyperspace. The solutions provided by the ship's AI were as complex as they were outrageous. His ship learned with every encounter but it could never compensate for the thoughts of an organic brain in desperation.
He was going to have to take a chance. At this speed he'd be in the Hutt system in an hour, and a fire-fight there would be suicide, or worse, imprisonment by the Hutts. Two choices presented themselves. Divert to Ord Mandell or . . .
He grabbed his harness and hurriedly strapped himself in and tightened it as far as he could. His flesh whitening as he did so. Reaffirming his grip on the flight sticks he physically braced himself as best he could. With his left foot hovering above the inertial rudder he lifted his right leg high above the console.
He checked his breathing and made one last visual check - three ships, standard v formation and ready for attack. Praising his luck that none of the three pilots had anticipated his move he dropped his right leg. His foot made contact with the emergency sunspace reversion button.
In the blink of an eye the Precious was back in real space. Decelerating back to normal sub-light speed. He stamped hard on the rudder with his left foot, whilst simultaneously kicking the internal gravity dial to full with his left. As his ship still hurtled forward it began to tilt. A quick jolt forward on the sticks and the ship was now facing the way he came, still travelling at maximum sub-light speed.
The alarms triggered again and three blurs appeared ahead in the viewport, the blurs quickly becoming deadly fighters that would surely finish him off. Sure enough all three fighters remained in their side by side formation. Three Z-95 Head-hunters. Formidable in their day, but no match for his Precious.
The best thing about his custom control sticks was that under each of his fingertips was the firing mechanism for each of his ship's weapons. They flared to life and began to take apart the antiques chasing him. There was no audible sound in the vacuum of space, but the sound of his weapons firing at maximum filled the cockpit with their beautiful melodic screeching.
He released his harness and allowed himself to relax, and the three debris clouds grew smaller and smaller. He checked the tactical display and was relieved to see no transmissions were made by either if the three. He righted his ship and reprogrammed the jump into hyperspace. Point one past lightspeed this time, there was no rush as he had some business to take care of.
The ship lurched effortlessly back to lightspeed and he climbed out of his chair and headed back to his quarters. Flipped on the sonic shower and climbed in, closing the door behind him. He began to soap himself up, and the hot vapour encased him. His mind was immediately back to where it was before the interruption.
Spending extra time lubricating his balls he began to stroke his cock which had returned to full duty incredibly quickly. He leant back against the shower wall and started to beat himself faster. His eyes closed as he pictured her face again, and her soft open pussy. Her fingers working her open lips as her mouth worked it's magic on his cock. In seconds he was finally cumming. With one hand gripping the base and the other furiously working the tip of his cock he came, spraying the other wall in his juice.
He finally allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief, or was it satisfaction? Either way he was spent. Now to get suited up and bring in his next bounty. The question was what would he do with her? But the thought of her tied up in his holding cell lingered in his mind a moment too long as he could feel his cock twitching back to life.
Well, maybe five more minutes in the shower wouldn't hurt.