- Joined
- Dec 15, 2018
- Messages
- 34
- Reaction score
- 16
Location: Spaceport on Corellia
The young Miralukan slipped on his ragged cloak and hood, making for the entrance of his dilapidated apartment. He was about to finish his last job. Lux had made the decision weeks ago, well, really it was the moment he started smuggling. He had no real stomach for it - he wasn't interested in the dangerous gun-slinging, toxic personalities, etc. that came with the space.
The job in question involved some weaponry, nothing special, but he was shipping the goods off to a possible Rebel sympathizer. Or perhaps they were folks from one of the many gangs across space. He didn't really know, although his contacts had informed him the go-to was someone with known ties to Rebels. What that actually entailed, Lux did not know.
Lux wasn't opposed to the Rebel cause, if one truly did exist as some in his realm had whispered about. In fact, Lux was an open-minded and staunchly anti-Imperial man. He never made that last part known. Moreover, his contacts didn't even know he was Miralukan. Nobody really knew who Lux was, Lux himself even less so.
He slipped out into the alley, wearing a red mask to hide his face underneath the hood. He took to wearing different masks or eyewear in order to keep people off his trail. Whether that was actually an effective tactic was anybody's guess.
The shipment of weapons--he didn't know the exact details--should have landed in Spaceport 4-B at Landing Pad 12 in the southern part of Coronet City. The plan was simple...ish: Lux would get to the Daft Hand, the ship, shuttle the goods to a warehouse a quarter mile out, shake hands with the buyer, and he would be done. Getting through security wouldn't be a problem--his main contact was a security worker, Dax Morma, a Bith he'd helped out of a jam once.
Lux waded through the mass of people down an open street, his presence somewhat odd, but not anything abnormal. After about twenty minutes, he reached the landing pad at Spaceport 4-B, Landing Pad 12. The Daft Hand was a medium sized cargo ship, nothing fancy. He didn't know the pilot all too well, but he picked up the name, Zahn - a short-tempered human man with an eye-patch. As he walked toward the entrance to the landing pad, a loud explosion erupted from down the street, shouting and gunfire rang out.
"Ah crap," he said to himself. "It's gonna get messy." He sprinted to the ship, banging on the door. "Zahn, let me in, dammit. Riot or somethin' goin' on. The plan's no good right now!"
@Alika Kazaczecho
The young Miralukan slipped on his ragged cloak and hood, making for the entrance of his dilapidated apartment. He was about to finish his last job. Lux had made the decision weeks ago, well, really it was the moment he started smuggling. He had no real stomach for it - he wasn't interested in the dangerous gun-slinging, toxic personalities, etc. that came with the space.
The job in question involved some weaponry, nothing special, but he was shipping the goods off to a possible Rebel sympathizer. Or perhaps they were folks from one of the many gangs across space. He didn't really know, although his contacts had informed him the go-to was someone with known ties to Rebels. What that actually entailed, Lux did not know.
Lux wasn't opposed to the Rebel cause, if one truly did exist as some in his realm had whispered about. In fact, Lux was an open-minded and staunchly anti-Imperial man. He never made that last part known. Moreover, his contacts didn't even know he was Miralukan. Nobody really knew who Lux was, Lux himself even less so.
He slipped out into the alley, wearing a red mask to hide his face underneath the hood. He took to wearing different masks or eyewear in order to keep people off his trail. Whether that was actually an effective tactic was anybody's guess.
The shipment of weapons--he didn't know the exact details--should have landed in Spaceport 4-B at Landing Pad 12 in the southern part of Coronet City. The plan was simple...ish: Lux would get to the Daft Hand, the ship, shuttle the goods to a warehouse a quarter mile out, shake hands with the buyer, and he would be done. Getting through security wouldn't be a problem--his main contact was a security worker, Dax Morma, a Bith he'd helped out of a jam once.
Lux waded through the mass of people down an open street, his presence somewhat odd, but not anything abnormal. After about twenty minutes, he reached the landing pad at Spaceport 4-B, Landing Pad 12. The Daft Hand was a medium sized cargo ship, nothing fancy. He didn't know the pilot all too well, but he picked up the name, Zahn - a short-tempered human man with an eye-patch. As he walked toward the entrance to the landing pad, a loud explosion erupted from down the street, shouting and gunfire rang out.
"Ah crap," he said to himself. "It's gonna get messy." He sprinted to the ship, banging on the door. "Zahn, let me in, dammit. Riot or somethin' goin' on. The plan's no good right now!"
@Alika Kazaczecho