Tri'sta
Character
Flicking a few switches directly in front of the pilot's seat in the not-so-famous "Chubby Lop", Tri'sta was more than ready to leave the small independent spaceport on Kessel. With her hidden storage compartments packed to the brim with spice obtained through other means and an impatient client waiting on Tatooine, she was going through the final flight checks before she could take off. To make her day even better, not only would she soon be leaving Sith space, but she had picked up a second member for ship, making this no longer a one-woman show. So far, there'd been no bumps in the road, but she kind of wished she had some wood to knock on even if she wasn't truly the superstitious sort.
Flicking a switch to her right on a small, stainless black console, she turned on the comms and called back to the engine room. "How's that new Torque Converter holding up?" She asked with a wide grin, even daring to peek over her shoulder and down the small hallway that made up the bulk of her cargo shuttle. Outside, the spaceport was bustling with a variety of humans and aliens, all going about their day--loading cargo, miners and sometimes even prisoners--as regular Imperial patrols casually wandered past with a passing glance at the various cargo ships that had been approved for landing. Though she felt a little nervous whenever she saw someone in Imperial garments, she knew--or at least thought--she had nothing to worry about beyond the random inspection. To fly cover for her shipments, all the authorities in control of the spaceport knew was that she was flying out some old spanners for Corellia, and wasn't due back for another couple of weeks...
Flicking a switch to her right on a small, stainless black console, she turned on the comms and called back to the engine room. "How's that new Torque Converter holding up?" She asked with a wide grin, even daring to peek over her shoulder and down the small hallway that made up the bulk of her cargo shuttle. Outside, the spaceport was bustling with a variety of humans and aliens, all going about their day--loading cargo, miners and sometimes even prisoners--as regular Imperial patrols casually wandered past with a passing glance at the various cargo ships that had been approved for landing. Though she felt a little nervous whenever she saw someone in Imperial garments, she knew--or at least thought--she had nothing to worry about beyond the random inspection. To fly cover for her shipments, all the authorities in control of the spaceport knew was that she was flying out some old spanners for Corellia, and wasn't due back for another couple of weeks...