Private Zero Pressure Smuggling

[Kivah]

Tag: Sidonia
Location: Gala
Ship: Reaper Kai
Gear: Goggles, Jacket, Udyr Biosuit, Lightsabers, Autoblasters x2

Like most Cathar, Kivah hated the Mandalorians. It wasn't anything personal, she even got along with a few of them, but when your homeworld has been subject to their rule, and bombings, and occasional 'hunting party,' going on generations, you start to build a chip on your shoulder. Kivah had returned the last time the Mandalorians had bombed the forest she'd grown up in, personally stamped out the embers. So when an associate of hers had asked her to take advantage of her old ident chip to run a sensor shroud into his friends on Gala, she was naturally grumpy. More so than usual. But she let him talk her around, the credits were good, his people did need the shroud to convert a new smuggling ship, and the drop-off was a shot hop from Cathar itself. Which to Kivah was the only reason to even visit Mando space.

The trip in went easy, she cut in from galactic south, bypassing that stupid arm the Mandos had conquered out to the Sith Holy Lands, and staying in unclaimed territory ever since leaving Etti IV. Gala was reasonably built up and civilized, so she wasn't aiming for a clearing, or worse, following some idiot's heading through mountain passes to find a lake a thousand klicks from anywhere. Her local credentials let her touch down in the capital's spaceport with minimal fuss, the bored looking official doing a double take when he saw her. Probably didn't see many Cathar, especially one with her size and build. Or maybe it was the dark skin-tight biosuit she wore as armor, she only tossed on her jacket after paying the docking fee and kicking him off her ship. The jacket hid her sabers in their sheaths under her arms and she buckled on a pair of auto blasters and a few reloads as well. They were a bit much most places, but she'd stand out more in Mandalorian space if she wasn't visibly armed. If anything, she figured they were a bit understated in a land where people went around with missile jetpacks and other weapons coating every inch of their armor. But having them also gave her something other than her lightsabers to fall back on should the need arise.

Hefting the crate stuffed with all the little bits of tech and wiring needed to fit a freighter with a sensor shroud out of its hidden compartment, Kivah lifted it to her shoulder, made sure everything else was back in place, and walked down the Reaper's ramp, leaving instructions to the in-built co-pilot to watch the ship. As if he ever didn't.

It was as she was heading out of the landing zone and to the port's taxi stand, that she noticed a slight bristling on her tail. Head cocked, she gave it an experimental flick to feel the slight stiffness running its length. Changing plans, she made a quick stop at the rental lockers where she stashed the crate in exchange for a magnetic key. After that, she hailed a speeder to take her into the city to a little dive cantina she was supposed to do the hand off at.

The Drunk Ronto smelled like its namesake, and Kivah found a seat in a round booth near the back where she propped herself up as if she hadn't a care in the world before ordering a drink and settling into wait.