The Bombard exited hyperspace. We had barely escaped an ambush. I waited a moment as the stars rested, and turned to my pilot. "How the shit did they know we were going to be there?" I yelled. "I don't know, but someone must have tipped them off." said the pilot. That was Donald R. Anders. I had known him my whole life. Now, we smuggled together. We were making money to buy a moon to found a Crime Organization. He knew a relatively calm person, though I'd hate to admit I needed him as a counter weight. "Hello?" "Depends. Want's up?" I replied. "Offer?" I ask. "What the shit?!" I yelled.