⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀LUKE MONTANN.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Engineer.
"The stars are ours to see, the galaxy is ours to set foot on."
Bad, to worse, to way worse..
═⠀I am but a poor, wayfaring stranger.⠀═
Orleon was a rather unfavorable place for people to be visiting. It was murky, dark, in a more secluded part of the galaxy. It was a thing to drop things off of at, forgotten relics of forgotten times.
Luke was one of those things, in a way. Not directly, but somewhat. A man forgotten by the galaxy, left to fend for himself. But it was by his own hand and the actions of others, not just solely the factor of one.
His ship rumbled across the sky, a heavy freighter, designed to haul scrap and long space travels. Dark red and colored blue in some spots, it marked him as an independent trader. He'd done business with everyone and anyone, and lived beneath the shadow of all the giants in the galaxy.
It was raining when he landed, heavy droplets slamming against the hull of his ship as he found a suitable landing zone. He entered the engineering deck of his ship, pulling up the requested material list. A few rare metals that he'd find on the reported shipwrecks and abandoned technology here. Targeting computers, circuit boards, old technology that wouldn't be picked up by sensors. That kind of thing.
He took a deep breath, pulling his datapad into his pack. He stepped into his suit- an environmental protection and armor all in one. His blaster was a tri-shooter, three barrels to deliver as much firepower as quickly as possible. A hovering apparatus housed all his tools and ample storage for his scrap and hauls. It was based on what the Jawas far off used to have. They were the best at what he did, he really just tried to replicate them. Hopefully this haul, however, was better than the last two. While not unprofitable, they were not as lucrative as he would've liked.
He sighed, the rain heavy even against his suit.
Grimy, he thought.
He turned on the lights of his suit- indicators on his back, and the night-vision and lights lit up on his suit. A blue-white hue washed over the greens and browns of the floor below him. He trekked forward, a shipwreck buried far in the dirt from at least a few decades ago. Whether shot down or abandoned, it wasn't really important anymore. By his report, it was an old Republic ship, far before the High Republic or the Alliance were even a thought. At the minimum, it put it around 40-50 years old. But he had a sneaking suspicion that the Gulag plague brought this one down, not so much anything else.
He marched forward, and found the crash site within a few minutes. He spent a few moments setting up lights, battery packs, and attached his blaster to his hip with the magnetic lock. And then... a radio. He stopped, crouching near one of the crates. It lifted up, antennas and sniffers erecting from the hard plastic container. Soft beeps and hums filled the air. His visor swept over the console, as he tapped away.
Radiation scanner. No leaks.
Scanners to detect energy signatures- things like unexploded ordinance, weapons, overloaded system.
A radar to map out the area by sound.
And then, a frequency emitter to map out the area below him.
Soil sample collection- if he needed to find out if there was a leak or something to be concerned about.
Another apparatus to detect if there was chemical contagion in the air. As a precaution, he always wore the suit until it was done scanning completely for at least a three mile radius. The minimum engineering standard for safe distance from all currently known toxic gases and poisons.
Lastly, a sample collector to see if there was any bacterial or viral infection in any sample. While not able to tell exactly what the sample would contain, the amount of virus or bacteria on something could be cause for concern. Again, hence the suit.
He wasn't so much worried about the ordinance and the viruses and bacterial infection on this old ship, however. Moreso the ordinance and the ancient reactors that had gone off-line. But, they seemed to be holding and not leaking.
All the Galaxy's Top Hits, played softly over the sound of Luke's quiet plasma torch starting to cut into the panel of the great ancient beast of a cruiser. The cruiser itself was buried deep in the soil- at least fifteen feet. Must've come in hot. The vegetation took it back quickly, and there was more green than white and blue now. At a glance, it looked like a few panels- though his scanner told him that the cruiser was still intact and stable inside. If he cut into the panel successfully, it would mean that he could climb inside and get what he wanted and needed.
He hummed along, when his radar emitted a soft beep.
Lord Kalrath
to leave behind some of his forgotten toys, left to decay. Seven knew of one in particular. She knew it well because it had been her predecessor. It used to be a Zabrak, a real cocky bastard as well. He wasn't brought up like she had been, so the moron still had his ambition in tact. He thought one day he'd usurp the Master and take his place. 
