First Reply Scrapping Over Scrap

[Alana Calloway]

Location: Ord Mantell
Tags: Open
Gear: In Bio
Alana crouched at the edge of the sprawling scrapyard, the low hum of distant machinery vibrating through the dirt beneath her boots. Rusted hulls and twisted metal towers stretched out in every direction, scraps piled high like jagged little mountains. Ord Mantell always smelled of oil and scorched metal, and today it seemed especially pungent. Or maybe it was always pungent. She hadn't been here in some time.

She scanned the piles with careful eyes, her hand hovering over a bent panel that could hide something useful. The problem she faced now, was that after being out of the galaxy for so long, she had next to no income.

This wasn't just scavenging; it was improvising. She needed parts, just anything she could collect to...try and cobble together some hardware. She had no armor, outdated weapons, and she was one Lirka Ka away from just having to smack people down with her hands.

There had to be something good here she could use.

A heap of dismantled speeders caught her attention. Moving to it, she began to inspect the damage. The titanium frame was promising, the circuits tangled, but intact. Carefully, she pried a long cylindrical piece free, and checked for carbon scoring. A coil of wire slipped from another pile, snapping lightly in the sunlight; might word for a replacement for her grapple cords.

Around her, the scrapyard clattered and hissed, some sort of affair was underway. but Alana didn't pay it any mind. Alana wiped a streak of grime from her cheek and set to work, scrapping this speeder with her small set of tools. A few more hours of careful sorting, a little ingenuity, and she'd hold something more than scrap in her hands. Whatever that would end up being, she hadn't a clue, but it would be something.

Even if it was some cobbled together junk.

She could hear the sound of the approaching hyper rail junker; probably here to deliver another load of scrap. If nothing else, she was walking away with something today.

 

[Tohu]

A cloud of dust swept through the scrapyards of Ord Mantell, creeping on the tail of a hover train. As the distance closed, Alana would distinguish a swoop bike hungrily heading her way.

Tohu’s unruly hair waved wildly against the rush of wind. Beneath it, a playful smirk stretched into a raptorial grin at the sight of his prey and the sudden surge of adrenaline pumping into his veins with the frantic rhythm of the tracking fob’s beeps.

He could temper his exhilaration only so much before he finally yielded and brought the heavy blaster pistol to bear. Silenced by the train’s blaring engines and almost indiscernible in the scorching, bright light of the sun, a series of blaster bolts would rain down on Alana’s position.

Alana Calloway ​