Alira Sham
Character
The prison station drifts slow, trembling, toward Dagobah. Orbit failing. Metal groaning under strain. One wrong move… one missed beat… and it will crash. Everyone aboard—guards, prisoners—gone, swallowed by mist and swamp.
So remote, it was never given a proper name. Just a number: Relay Outpost KX‑17. Forgotten by most, known by few. Perfect for keeping someone very important… until now.
Inside her ship, The Echo, Alira Sham leans over the controls with effortless confidence. Purple skin glows softly in the cockpit light. Bare lekku drape over one shoulder. Fingerless gloves glide across the panels with slow, precise ease. Her green eyes are sharp, calm… dangerous.
She taps the comm. Her voice is low, velvety, flowing with a soft accent that curves each word, smooth and deliberate.
"You understand, yes?" she murmurs. "If zis station hits zee water… everyone dies. Your prisoner… included."
Silence. She tilts her head slightly, a faint, knowing smile touching her lips.
"Mmm… I knew zat would get your attention."
A schematic of Cell C‑12 glows red on her display.
"This one… he is very important," she continues, voice soft but unwavering, accent threading naturally through every syllable. "Important enough zat you send me. Not guns. Not mercs. Me."
Her fingers drift across the console. Cameras blink. Turrets freeze. Systems bend quietly to her will.
"And we are very clear about something," she adds, silky, confident, lilt curling around her words, "my payment… it is not later. It is the moment zee door opens. Exact moment. Not before. Not after."
Her eyes flick to the rear of The Echo. In the dim corridor, her partner shifts slightly, the weight of a blaster moving in their hands — ready. Muscle for the things she cannot handle alone.
"I will go inside," she murmurs, voice dropping to a low, teasing tone, letting her lekku sway naturally, "with zee prisoner. We move together. Fast. Clean. You… help. Or… stay out of trouble."
On her display, guard movements are indicated by small blips. Security teams are retreating from the lower levels, leaving a precious window.
Dagobah swirls beneath the station, green mist and dark waters waiting.
Alira rises in one smooth motion, adjusting her gloves.
"From zee moment we dock, we have ten minutes before structural stress triggers full lockdown. The drop will get… very fast."
Docking clamps extend from The Echo, smooth, deliberate, inevitable.
"Ten minutes," she murmurs, eyes gleaming. "Then gravity takes everything."
“That’s correct,” the voice on the other end of the comm said in a clipped tone, made hazy by distance.
A faint, knowing smile curves her lips.
"So… send zee credits. And I bring back your very precious prisoner… before zee swamp decides to swallow him for herself, hmm?"
