In the darkness of space, Graw dreamt of home. He was free and swimming with the current, gliding along through the reefs. He could sense the tension in the water around him as he moved. The creatures of the sea sensing the apex predator among them and news of his presence proceeded him. Turning sharply, he glided around the corner of one of the larger reefs and smiled as prey scattered before the unexpected movement. One of the larger creatures had moved too quickly and caught a fin on the reef, drawing blood. Graw’s sensory glands dilated and he turned sharply towards the sweet coppery scent of vitae in the water. He saw his prey limping away, dimly glowing in the darkness of the high sea. He accelerated towards his prey, focused on the goal and his meal, jaws widening to expose rows of razor-sharp teeth….
The light blinked at the top of the sleeping tank that Graw used when he had trouble sleeping in one of the ships berths. He opened his eyes to disappointment, no hunt, no kill, just a blinking light announcing that they had arrived out of hyperspace at their destination. Reaching up he hit the button beside the light with one webbed fist and then lay still in the water. He just needed a moment to regain his composure after the dream. It had been far too long since he had been able to swim the oceans of his beloved home world of Karkari. He centered himself and then hit the exit button, sliding into the rubberized seal that separated the water in the tank from the airlock at the end. He stood in the cold, hopping on his webbed feet and cursing the cold of the floor.
In moments he was outside the chamber and into his quarters, pulling on his gold and black beskar’gam and performing a weapons check. He looked over the worn and well used EM-6 Raider Shotgun with fondness, running a scarred webbed hand over the smooth wooden stock. Years of use had smoothed and shined the wood stock to a high sheen and made it smooth as silk. The mechanical action was still as crisp and sharp as the day he had purchased the weapon. He had made sure to maintain the weapon and its counterpart, the EM-2 Blaster pistol, to the best of his ability.
The mornings weapons check done, he moved to the data port in the cabin and checked his messages. There were several there awaiting his attention and he took a few moments to examine the contents of each one. Two separate orders for organs, one a Twi’lek and the other a Wookiee, were at the top of the list. He forwarded both of those to his front man in the cybertech business for relay to an acquisitions team. He was on assignment or he would have taken the job for himself, he always enjoyed testing his strength against worthy prey and Wookiees were known for their fighting prowess. But these jobs would have to be subcontracted out as he had bigger fish to fry as it were. This was no pleasure cruise on the great North Sea of Karkari. This was a parlay with a potential ally but more likely a clever enemy.
The home fires kept burning, Graw stood and after grabbing his helmet, headed towards the bridge. He quickly looked over the ships computer and saw that Malicar was on the bridge with his sister. He could feel the bumps as the ship broke the atmosphere and then a purple light appeared on his wrist. It was time and he was being summoned to the shuttle. He made his way down the corridors to the shuttle and slid into the ship. He slid into a jump seat near the door but within earshot of the main area where Malicar and his sister were sitting. He could hear their conversation and was close enough to be involved. It sounded like family matters so he kept his mouth shut and instead started to scan the surface area where the meet would take place, looking for any surprises. Looking at the chron on the board above his head he called out in that gravely voice of his, using Chiss out of respect for Malicar.
“T-minus 25 minutes to rendezvous Malicar, anyone looking should have us on radar at this point.”
Several more taps on the boards in front of him brought up tactical arrays and simulations, the text scrolling across his sharky visage in the darkness as he scanned information. Threats were accounted for and non-threats were discarded almost as soon as they were seen. His webbed fingers flew across the keys, the dexterity of a surgeon working well to make typing on the machine that much faster and more accurate.
