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Before he could even walk, all Val Verdant ever dreamed of was flying. He comes from a race of people called the Vahreen. They are a small, sturdy species with long fingers, prehensile toes, and thick dreadlocks. They have a long and proud tradition of space travel. The Galactic Marine Corps recruits many young Vahreen; their compact bodies and quick reflexes make them excellent fighter pilots, although they are never promoted past the cockpit.
Val left home as soon as he looked old enough, he lied about his age and joined the Galactic Marines two years early. He advanced quickly, his skills are impressive, even by Vahreen standards. He soon caught the eye of his superiors and was drafted into the top secret WHISPER project.
Val and twenty other Vahreen pilots were brought to a space station so far away from civilization it would be impossible to stumble upon accidentally. No one is allowed contact with the outside world, anyone who objects quietly disappears.
For the last two years Val and the other pilots have flown every sort of craft imaginable, both simulated and real, while civilian scientist take detailed notes. They have no idea what the WHISPER project is; after the first few pilots disappeared, the rest to stop asking questions.
When they're not in the cockpit, the pilots don't have much to do, poker has become the favored past time. Lately even the civilian scientists are playing, evidently they are just as isolated as the marines.
One night, on his way to a game on the civilian side of the station, Val takes a wrong turn. He finds himself in the doorway to an observation deck overlooking a docking bay.
Inside is the station's commander, Commander Dillian, talking with Laurine; a stunning, but cold woman who oversees the civilian scientists. Behind them, next to the giant windows, is a huge muscular man with glowing red, prosthetic eyes. He wears an expensive, tailored suit and shiny combat boots. Where his right hand should be, is a vicious skeleton-like mechanical hand, with razor sharp, red, metal fingers. He is Red Klaw; an infamous crime lord respected and feared through out the underworld. He has so many police and government officials on his payroll, that straight cops don't even know he exists. Even the incorruptible Inner Planetary Patrol Force has never heard of him.
For a moment, Val gapes at the stranger. Red Klaw taps his metal fingers together and glares at Val, it makes an unsettling noise. Val has no idea who this is, but obviously it's a private party. He clears his throat uncomfortably and quickly backs out of the room, "Oh, uh, sorry, wrong room!"
Without a second thought Val hurries down the hall. When he's gone, Red Klaw turns to Dillian, "Get rid of him." His voice is casual, but deadly.
With out thinking Dillian blurts out, "But he's our best..." Red Klaw's eyes narrow, Dillian swallows hard as he trails off. "Y-Yes sir."
Red Klaw turns back to the window, the WHISPER project hovers in the bay below. To the naked eye she is a strange patchwork of ship parts, with wide gaps of space showing through where her chameleon skin has been applied. With his enhanced vision, Red Klaw can see the whole ship perfectly. She is a powerful stealth battle cruiser shaped like a giant, space faring stingray. She is fast and elegant.
"How much longer?" Red Klaw asks, still facing the window.
"Two weeks." Laurine answers smoothly.
"Excellent." Red Klaw turns around to face the others, "Contact the Generals. Laurine I'm going to Earth, you will conduct the demonstration in my absence."
Dillian looks upset to hear that Red Klaw is leaving before the Generals arrive, but he keeps his opinion to himself. He just nods instead.
Red Klaw watches him for a moment, making Dillian squirm slightly. "Well then, we're done here. Oh, and Dillian, the pilot, make sure he's gone before he can mention me to anyone."
Dillian nods, then turns on his heel and marches out of the room. After he leaves, Laurine cozies up to Red Klaw, "So, Degaul has the gems?" She asks demurely.
He smiles and runs the blunt end of his mechanical finger down her cheek, "He will by the time I get there..."
The next day, before Val can reach the flight simulator, he is arrested. He is charged with possession and distribution of drugs he's never even heard of.
His trial is a complete mockery; he is barely allowed to defend himself. Before he knows what hit him, Val finds himself in a prison jumpsuit and shackles, being marched onto a transport to military prison for a life sentence.
With his head spinning Val is sure his life is over. Even if he could get an appeal, he'll never be allowed in a cockpit again.
Then a tiny scrap of metal on the hanger bay deck catches his eye and a slim ray of hope dawns. As casually as he can muster, Val swings wide on his way into the transport. He scoops up the sliver of metal discreetly with his toe, then boards the ship.
He is locked in the tiny cargo hold of the transport. When they are well under way, Val goes to work on the shackles. Eventually he manages to short circuit the electronic locks.
Then he takes his metal scrap to the cargo hold door. This transport was never designed to be a prison ship; he breaks into the lock pad and pries it open far enough to hot wire the lock to open.
Before he sneaks into one of the transport's escape pods, Val make a quick detour to the engine room. He disables the ship, just enough to leave it adrift. Then he flees, he's long gone before the transport pilot even knows what's happened.
Val milks the tiny little escape pod for everything it's worth. By the time the engine finally gives out, he is at the edge of a quiet solar system, where a giant sun heats several farming moons.
He coasts into a massive orbiting fuel station and gently drops the escape pod outside of the garages. The local mechanic is impressed with Val's landing. Val talks the guy into trading the pod for some credits at the local saloon--Harv's Place.
Harv's is on the back side of the fuel station, it seems to be THE local hang out. Tired old strippers dance while patrons eat greasy looking food and watered down drinks. There are several gaming tables through out the place, even a sleepy looking sports book.
Val slips into a corner seat at the bar and orders a drink. Now he is officially an escaped prisoner, if they catch him they'll probably shoot him on sight. Val knows he must keep moving, but he is going to need some money and transportation. He looks around at the gaming tables.
Most of the patrons are farmers, engaged in small stakes games. They don't look like they have too much to offer. Across the bar a tall man with wild silver hair and a mean looking scar over his left eye shuffles a fresh deck. Next to him is a large greenish creature with a long tail and sharp claws. They sit with a couple of locals who appear to be slightly better dressed than the rest. This seems Val's best bet.
He orders a fresh drink and some poker chips, then wanders over. He watches for a bit. When a new round comes up, Val moves in, "Mind if I join you?"