Only, in this instance, it referred to a woman and her ship. Hammer, that Firespray-31-Class Patrol and Attack Craft, hull of red and gold, and its pilot and captain, that Mandalorian, beskar'gam of red and gold, whose bounty hunter moniker was Anvil.
Coordinates laid in, the Mandalorian lowered her vessel toward a station above a planet. A small and simple establishment in orbit, serving as a refueling platform for ships and those with an itch of cheap drinks before or after that planet.
The captain and her ship did need to refuel in more ways than one, but the former wasn’t sure if battery acid was worth it. Gotta be better vodka down on the planet. Setting her ship into position on the surface of the station, Hammer settled in, snug and secure on a platform for a bit of maintenance.
It wasn’t like Anvil couldn’t have taken her in to the surface of the planet, with the world of G’wenee being a thrown stone away, but she had also come to this place to meet her teammate. Another Mandalorian, another hunter, at least when it came to this mission to hunt a pack of Deucalian swoopers.
Exiting her cockpit, a bit of a beep and a boop noise emitted from her back from Rawl, her 4EY scout droid. [“5,000 credits, Cas. Can’t you take on these Deuces by yourself?”]
“Damn right I can,” Cas answered back. “But I can’t be everywhere at once and this is more than business. Don’t forget.”
The pair of woman and droid exited the ship, crossed a walkway and stood in the center of the hangar. Casany, or rather Anvil as her partner would recognize her, stood head to toe in red and gold Mandalorian armor, hands on hips, eyes behind the black visor of her red-gold helmet, a red sagum draping from her shoulders.
[“Face it, Captain. You want a shot.”]
“Of vodka? Check. Of Deucalian faces? Checkmate. But for now we wait.”
@Rimrald
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