Alndys
Mercenary, Artist.
@[member="Jorus Merrill"] l @[member="Fabula Cavataio"] l @[member="Lisa Goran"]
What a lovely place to have a couple day's work. To rediscover what it was, exactly, that'd earned her fortune, brought her family together, and been the catalyst for her relationship with Jorus Merrill. And, moreover, what a lovely place to rip the derelict guts out of an old carrier until the shiny, valuable bits inside were found.
"We're coming in off a heading of north-northwest. Landing in a couple of minutes. Scanners'r telling me that the atmosphere here is breathable." Alna reported into comm, her voice reporting through the ship to the three other people on board. One was her husband, the other two her apprentices. Not in the typical sense through the Galaxy where they cut things up with laser swords at her behest, but in the traditional phrasing where she was teaching them a trade skill. "I've got the computer bringing us in. Meet y'all in the cargo bay."
One was an olive-skinned, busty beauty from the Dathomari - Fabula Cavataio - who'd wandered half-starving into a Silk Holdings station canteen on the right day and had wound up with a free meal for the trouble. Alna had figured the girl had a good heart and had fallen on some hard times, and offered her a chance to do some work to make ends meet. Fabula'd busted her behind for Alna that day, and a couple more times since. She might lack the technical knowledge, but she'd likely be able to do anything if she approached it with the same heart she'd doven into salvaging with.
Lisa Goran, on the other hand, was a more traditional acquisition. A Lorrdian, like Alndys herself, who'd got caught in the same miserable mire that typically kept good souls trapped on Tatooine until they because just as vile and criminal as the place itself. Younger than Fabula, though with a great deal more technical skill and salvaging experience, Alndys liked her forthright and earnest nature. Alndys understood her desire to see the stars better than most, and offered a quick route off of the desert planet.
The two young women were a good compliment to each other, Alndys felt. With a little guidance and experience, they'd be a great addition to Silk Holdings. Or, at the very least, they'd be able to provide for themselves out in the Galaxy better than they'd been managing before she had come into the picture. That'd be enough.
Alna's Wayfarer was more than large enough to accommodate four adults (and her toddler step-daughter, Mara) without any difficulty. It'd been Alna's home growing up in a family with four brothers and two parents, after all. Sure, it wasn't as big or as grand as the Pathfinder-class ship, 'Daragon', they'd swung through to pick up Jorus in a few days before (Though if Lisa had been looking for an example of Alna's skill as a shipwright and the veracity of her claims of being a CEO, she need look no father than that huge, state-of-the-art beauty of an expensive freighter). For her part, Alna knew that Fabula preferred the homely Wayfarer to the large Pathfinder - and Jorus liked smaller, banged-up ships in ways she didn't like to think to hard about.
Alna swung out of the pilot's chair as her battered old Wayfarer zipped over a chirping jungle somewhere in the outer rim - far from prying eyes, hopefully far enough from bando reavers that they'd be able to get some decent work done. And if not, the Force had seen fit to give them afterburners and at least one Czerka Headbanger to deal with trouble. The ship slowly turned and slowed as it neared the half-moss covered wreckage of a an Old Empire Frigate laying amidst a wide circle of trees. It was in remarkably good shape for having been there half-buried for so long.
With a relieved sigh, the Engineer slipped her toolbelt around her waist. Her hydrospanner and plasma cutter hung off of one side, just as she'd left 'em. She tied her hair back, keeping the friz and kinked curls out of the way. Old jeans, faded yellow blouse, unlit cigarette dangling from her lips (Trying to quit, what with Mara being around much more). It felt proper. Felt right. The geometic, tribal tattoos that lined her left arm from shoulder to the bases of her finger shifted as she pulled on heavy dewback leather work gloves and gave her crew a grin. "Old Empire LOVED Galven circuits an' expensive reactor components. You girls wanna work on your own projects, here, or should I start doling out assignments?" Alna asked with a good-humored smile.
What a lovely place to have a couple day's work. To rediscover what it was, exactly, that'd earned her fortune, brought her family together, and been the catalyst for her relationship with Jorus Merrill. And, moreover, what a lovely place to rip the derelict guts out of an old carrier until the shiny, valuable bits inside were found.
"We're coming in off a heading of north-northwest. Landing in a couple of minutes. Scanners'r telling me that the atmosphere here is breathable." Alna reported into comm, her voice reporting through the ship to the three other people on board. One was her husband, the other two her apprentices. Not in the typical sense through the Galaxy where they cut things up with laser swords at her behest, but in the traditional phrasing where she was teaching them a trade skill. "I've got the computer bringing us in. Meet y'all in the cargo bay."
One was an olive-skinned, busty beauty from the Dathomari - Fabula Cavataio - who'd wandered half-starving into a Silk Holdings station canteen on the right day and had wound up with a free meal for the trouble. Alna had figured the girl had a good heart and had fallen on some hard times, and offered her a chance to do some work to make ends meet. Fabula'd busted her behind for Alna that day, and a couple more times since. She might lack the technical knowledge, but she'd likely be able to do anything if she approached it with the same heart she'd doven into salvaging with.
Lisa Goran, on the other hand, was a more traditional acquisition. A Lorrdian, like Alndys herself, who'd got caught in the same miserable mire that typically kept good souls trapped on Tatooine until they because just as vile and criminal as the place itself. Younger than Fabula, though with a great deal more technical skill and salvaging experience, Alndys liked her forthright and earnest nature. Alndys understood her desire to see the stars better than most, and offered a quick route off of the desert planet.
The two young women were a good compliment to each other, Alndys felt. With a little guidance and experience, they'd be a great addition to Silk Holdings. Or, at the very least, they'd be able to provide for themselves out in the Galaxy better than they'd been managing before she had come into the picture. That'd be enough.
Alna's Wayfarer was more than large enough to accommodate four adults (and her toddler step-daughter, Mara) without any difficulty. It'd been Alna's home growing up in a family with four brothers and two parents, after all. Sure, it wasn't as big or as grand as the Pathfinder-class ship, 'Daragon', they'd swung through to pick up Jorus in a few days before (Though if Lisa had been looking for an example of Alna's skill as a shipwright and the veracity of her claims of being a CEO, she need look no father than that huge, state-of-the-art beauty of an expensive freighter). For her part, Alna knew that Fabula preferred the homely Wayfarer to the large Pathfinder - and Jorus liked smaller, banged-up ships in ways she didn't like to think to hard about.
Alna swung out of the pilot's chair as her battered old Wayfarer zipped over a chirping jungle somewhere in the outer rim - far from prying eyes, hopefully far enough from bando reavers that they'd be able to get some decent work done. And if not, the Force had seen fit to give them afterburners and at least one Czerka Headbanger to deal with trouble. The ship slowly turned and slowed as it neared the half-moss covered wreckage of a an Old Empire Frigate laying amidst a wide circle of trees. It was in remarkably good shape for having been there half-buried for so long.
With a relieved sigh, the Engineer slipped her toolbelt around her waist. Her hydrospanner and plasma cutter hung off of one side, just as she'd left 'em. She tied her hair back, keeping the friz and kinked curls out of the way. Old jeans, faded yellow blouse, unlit cigarette dangling from her lips (Trying to quit, what with Mara being around much more). It felt proper. Felt right. The geometic, tribal tattoos that lined her left arm from shoulder to the bases of her finger shifted as she pulled on heavy dewback leather work gloves and gave her crew a grin. "Old Empire LOVED Galven circuits an' expensive reactor components. You girls wanna work on your own projects, here, or should I start doling out assignments?" Alna asked with a good-humored smile.
