Private Not my ship!

[Evander of Alpheridies]

Faos station, 900 ABY

"200 credits to dock here for two days? That's daylight robbery!" Evander argued with the Gran in front of him. "I don't care that your hangar is supposedly the most secure on the station. Is there any hangar around here that won't charge me an arm and a leg to dock my ship?"

"You can always go to Jet's," The Gran spat, glaring at Evander with three angry eyes. "But his hangar is open to the street. Anyone could wander in and steal or break your ship."

"I'll take my chances," Evander replied haughtily, climbing back into his ship. Honestly, how ridiculous was that? Implying that someone would want to steal his old wing. The Lightfinder held nothing more than sentimental value, it was completely out of date and straight up falling apart in many places. As was evident as he pulled out of the hangar and slowly crawled his way over to another hangar, careful not to damage his ship by going too fast. Gently, he landed down in the hangar which, sure enough, did open out to the street. Hopping out, the Miraluka was greeted by a twi lek with blue skin and a winning smile.

"Are you Jet?" Evander asked. "I'd like to dock my ship here for two days."

"Oui, I am indeed Jet," the man replied, his thick accent signalling that he had left Ryloth only recently. "Two days means zat it will be 60 credits to park your...lovely antique."

"Perfect," Evander pressed the money into his hand, ignoring the comment on his ship's age. "That's significantly less than what the other guy offered me."

With that, the Miraluka walked off, glancing behind him to see The Lightfinder being towed to where the road met the inside of the hangar. For a moment Evander wondered if this was such a good idea, before he shrugged off the breif moment of uneasiness. No way anyone would try to steal his ship. Turning around, he made a beeline for a hairdresser that held the key to achieving his mission for today - dying his hair. His roots were beginning to come in, and he needed to touch up his hair's blue colour. Surely nothing would happen to his ship in the few hours it would take to do that?

Poker

 

[Poker]

The commando droid the would be thief whose hand was still on the pouch, moving from the hand in his wrist and back. And, slowly, jabbing a finger into their forehead. At best it was going to leave a bruise but it mostly left them utterly confused before he took the pouch back and walked away.

Why was he here again? Was it a bounty? It wasn't a mission, he wasn't sure the Sith Order technically remembered he even worked under them at one point or not. And he hadn't heard from his first friends in awhile. Must be a, "Oh." he said wandering off the trail at the sight of an x-wing just sitting out practically on the street, in his mind anyway. Naturally drawn to a model he knew was nearly as old as his original make was. "How old is this? Is this a remake? Is this for sale?" he has no intention of buying it, but curiosity naturally flooded the droidbrain.

Not that the ship was well guarded, but even if it was, his hand was already on the move, poke.

CRASH!

"Uh oh." he had somehow nearly snapped off one of the four laser cannons which was now only about half connected and hanging from the floor. The droid stared at it and lifted it up. No that didn't work, that didn't make any sense. He didn't have any way to weld it back together, "Uh oh. Do I...." he nearly went to jab his finger in the broken area before stopping himself, "I was not prepared for this problem."

Evander of Alpheridies




Ship: Royal Flush

Equipment:
-Vibro-Sword
-E-5 blaster rifle
-Cr-1 Blaster Rifle
-Grappling hook
-ESMS
-Credit pouch

 

[Evander of Alpheridies]

Freshly dying your hair really did make you feel like a whole new person sometimes. After paying the hairdresser, Evander raked his fingers through it a couple of times, smiling at how soft it felt. It was a pity his helmet would most likely mess it up. Well then, he would just have to take a minute to enjoy it while it lasted.

Not really in a rush, Evander wandered over to a vendor and brought himself a souvlaki wrap for dinner. It was cheap and tasted good, so the Miraluka found himself smiling as he made his way back to his ship. His smile faded, however, the moment he caught sight of it.

An entire laser cannon had snapped off! Unintentionally dropping his wrap, Evander's mouth gaped open as he surveyed the damage. It had almost completely snapped off, held on just barely by a couple screws. He knew his ship was old but this was too much for it to happen on it's own. Someone must have tampered with it...

Evander looked around, his face going red with fury as he spotted a commando droid hovering around his ship. Striding over, Evander glared at the droid who he believed responsible, his face a mixture of anger and shock. He tried to yell at him, but all he managed to choke out was a strangled: "How? How did you even do this?!"

Poker

 

[Poker]

Poker stared helplessly at his mistake. He was technically stronger than a human afterall, and put just the right pressure on just the right place. He wasn't entirely sure how he did that much damage now that he was trying to think about it. But his luck had always leapt from one extreme to another.

His head shot between the blindfolded man and the cannon at the question, out of his nature, he began to attempt to demonstrate what he did and nearly put his full body into poking a second cannon only barely stopping his finger, "Poke?" he prompted in the deep robotic voice that was the default, "This ship is very old." his voice shifted into a perfect mimicry of a mechanics he'd heard before, "Ahk, is likely is just da raght push at da raight time. Dese dings 'appen on old ships, tahk a crash straight inda anada ship and next ding ya know, POP, da hyperdrive blew and yer stuck in da midda ah nowheres."

Why he felt the need to do that, he wasn't sure. But it came to mind and he couldn't help it.

Evander of Alpheridies

 

[Evander of Alpheridies]

His head shot between the blindfolded man and the cannon at the question, out of his nature, he began to attempt to demonstrate what he did and nearly put his full body into poking a second cannon only barely stopping his finger, "Poke?" he prompted in the deep robotic voice that was the default, "This ship is very old."

"No no no! Don't poke it!" Evander ran over and attempted to drag the droid away from his ship. "So that's how you did it...why the hell did you think poking a stranger's ship was a good idea? Have you got a few screws loose? Or are your circuits fried?"

"And yeah, I know my ship is old," The Miralukan continued, turning back and feverishly checking to see if the second cannon had sustained any damage. Thankfully, it was alright, and Evander's next words came out alongside a sigh of relief. "It's my father's old ship. It belonged to his mas- I mean, to um, his mentor before him. Now it belongs to me. I try to take care of it as best I can."

"Ahk, is likely is just da raght push at da raight time. Dese dings 'appen on old ships, tahk a crash straight inda anada ship and next ding ya know, POP, da hyperdrive blew and yer stuck in da midda ah nowheres."

Evander's momentary relief instantly turned back to fury at the droid's comical accent. "Are you mocking me?" he yelled waving his arms about angrily. "You're going to regret this! Don't you know who I am? I'm-I'm..."

Evander paused, lowering his arms. Who was he, really? Just another wanderer in the galaxy. A lonely, friendless man without any family or place to call home. Sadly, Evander sat down on the floor, putting his head in his hands. "I'm nobody. I have nothing except this ship, which is just as pathetic as me."

Poker