Luck Has Nothing to do With It.
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12.15.2012 , 09:52 AM |
Chapter One:The Ship
A gun pressed up against the smuggler’s head. His hands where raised, his body facing the wall. A second mandalorian began patting him down.
“Careful down there,” the smuggler warned, his voice smooth and persuasive. “That’s the most important jewel.”
The mandalorian didn’t respond, but he was more careful around certain “regions”. The smuggler’s cargo surrounded him, filling up most of the space in the small cargo hold they were in. The solider whose gun was up against the smuggler’s head commanded the other to get to work searching the cargo. The mandalorian grumbled, but complied.
The cargo consisted of spice, weapons, and droid parts. After searching the entire room, the mandalorian reported back to the other.
“Just basic smuggled goods. Nothing special.” His helmet distorted his voice, making it sound monotone and hollow.
The other one removed his helmet, cradling it between his arm and chest, revealing that the he was actually a
! Her hair was short and dark, like her skin. Without the mask, her features developed, and it was clear she was female.
“Alright then. We should bring this one back to the others. I think…” her voice stopped, hearing a slight crash.
She looked around, and then placed the helmet back on her head. She turned the smuggler around, gripping his shoulder with one hand, while the other pointed the pistol at his face. The T-shaped visor glared at the smuggler, but he was stone-faced. His eyes revealed something else though, anticipation. The warrior wondered why.
What could possibly make this smuggler happy? His ship was destroyed, and anything… anyone on it would be dead
, she thought,
can’t be too careful.
Her thoughts where interrupted by the high-pitched beeping of the freighter’s alarm system. She turned around, only to feel the force of an uppercut landing on her armor. She flew back, collapsing on a durasteel container. She barely had to wheeze before the giant grabbed her around the neck and squeezed.
The wookiee dropped the mandalorian, its body limp as a ragdoll. The other had removed his pistol, and aimed at the wookiee. He roared, and using both his hands, swiped at the warrior with all his strength. The mandalorian dropped, and didn’t get back up. The smuggler retrieved the pistol, and fired down upon his assailant, assuring death to his foe.
The ship’s controls felt natural to the smuggler, like that of his old ship,
. It wouldn’t be the same without her he thought. The wookiee growled, and the smuggler nodded.
“Shut up will’ya Acara.” Acara moaned again, and the smuggler shouted. “Yeah, yeah -you saved me. Why don’t you save your gloating for until we’re safe in the hyperlanes.”
The wookiee looked as though he might speak, but he didn’t. The smuggler began steering the vessel away from the blockade. He looked at the map, and noted the coordinates. “I guess we go to Dantooine then. Alright. Acara, make course for Dantooine.” Acara began entering coordinates, and and the smuggler continued to fly the ship. Finally, they hit the hyperdrive.
The smuggler paced the ship, thinking of
. He fiddled with the only thing he had left from her, his blaster. The pistol was a steel blue color, with specs are gray coming through the old paint. It was his oldest memory, get the blaster. The D-88 was his first blaster, and his last.
He wondered over to the captain’s quarters, and looked around. A simple bed, closet, and mirror. Glancing at the mirror, he saw himself, Captain Risec Astucia. The amazing Captain Risec Astucia-smuggler extraordinaire. His clothes where charred from the fires of the battle. His orange hair and pale skin had soot covering them. His eyes had the green fire of content about them. He was tall, maybe 6’1. Fit, but not too muscular, and clever. Not so much intelligent, but so clever and witty it made up for it.
The ship resembled his old one, the same model- an XS light freighter. The only difference was the color, and the interior. This was gray and green, while his was yellow striped. The interior was bare, with only necessities aboard. Acara had been repairing the cargo, and making sure the engines would hold. They hadn’t gone down without a fight. Acara was the engineer in the group. Risec was the smuggler, the pilot, quick-shot, and the negotiator. Acara could fight though, years as a slave and gladiator had made him hostile and deadly to any who opposed his friends.
Risec had lain down on his bed. He liked this ship. It may make him emotional, but he liked it. But what for a name? What had the ship done to earn it a name? Risec pondered this, and finally found the perfect name. Not a real name, but he loved it. The ship represented it perfectly. Beaten and worn, and giving them an escape. The
STATEMENT: I'm just a simple assassin...I mean bodyguard, master. You have nothing to fear.