Jax was lying on his back underneath a panel of the engine room. Adjusting this or that was how he got by, but at the moment he was contemplating their newest destination; Alderaan. The bolt needed three turns from his wrench before it could go no more.

The number three set him to think. It had been three days since the news was made official. Jax had heard stories of the place, a beautiful and lush place that fit the requirements of a retirement planet in Jax’s mind. He had designated twelve planets for that purpose, only eleven left now, three years less than the number of years he still intended to work. three was a good number. Or was it bad? Jax wasn’t sure. Maybe neutral, that’s three options. He smirked as his hands were busy with the repairs.

Stories were circulating for a few days about Alderaan being the site of a mayor battle. The official story was that the Rebel Alliance had revealed a superweapon that destroyed Alderaan and that the Empire had destroyed promptly upon the terrible reveal. Jax didn’t buy that. A day ago footage had been released of the wasteland that has been Alderaan and a Rebel broadcast had went up speaking of a ‘Death Star’. It all seemed more plausible and terrifying at the same time…

Jax inhaled  with the bud of the cigar still on his lips, letting the sweet aroma fill his mouth. During his time on the Swift Fortune the Captain had never cared about the real story, as long as there was a profit to be made. A destroyed planet meant a profit alright. The Swift fortune had always specialized in the big-risk/big-reward jobs but this one defied all that. The place was sure to be patrolled by Imperial vessels, checkpoints had been instated so that ships couldn’t make a hyperspace jump from the conventional jump points. Though partly to keep ships from smashing into the Debris of Alderaan mid-jump, something that had caused at least another 260 deaths since the news had spread, the main reason was keeping journalists out. And scavengers of course.

Jax grinned to himself as welded a wire back in place. For here he was in a ship with a very real chance of exiting the hyperspace journey into an asteroid, debris field, or force forbid an Imperial Star Destroyer. But this was the life of a scavenger. Wasn’t it.
Jax pondered about it but before he formed a thought he heard the heavy clang of boots hitting the deck. Only then he became aware that he was scratching in an unseemly place. Stopping to wipe his hand on his trousers, up, down and up again. As he heard the Captains voice the urge to get up and offer an apology made Jax forgo prudence and he smacked his head into the panel he had been fixing. Over the thump he still heard: ‘Valana’s Diner’ 

The embarrassment made Jax crave for another drag from his cigar when he noticed the bump must’ve extinguished the thing. 	

[color=ec008c]“That includes you Jax, finish that up.”[/color]

The captain said as Jax used the welding torch to relight his cigar and made a few hairs of his moustache singe. Only to  get berated by the Captain:

[color=ec008c]
“And don’t do that, it’ll cost you an eye one day.”[/color]

Jax held his hand, including the torch in a mock salute, this time almost burning an eye out while saying: 

[color=f7941d]“Aye Aye, capt’n.”[/color]

But the Devaronian had already moved into the corridor, Jax’s words muted by the blast doors opening and closing. He had counted the steps the captain had taken and guess what: three.
The panel was as good as finished, he had only redone some of the work he had let Bast, the stowaway kid, do. Jax finished up in a few moments, bolting the panel back into place and sliding out from under it. After a quick adjustment of his greasy, once-white wifebeater  shirt he tucked his tools away and made for his quarters, the fifth door on the left, when counting both sides of course, that took him  two steps to get to and five minus two is three. It made jax ponder if not counting the door opposite to his room was valid as he punched in his code to reveal a cluttered mess of stuff all around the large bed in the center of the room. Just to be sure Jax holstered his scattergun in the small of his back, the set of stun batons he slid in the leather straps above it. His blaster pistols were still on his hip and so he took his beloved trenchcoat from the hook next to his door and put it on. Jax only slid his upper two arms trough the sleeves, using the lower two to close the coat instinctively over his blasters and hiding his lower arms. 

Jax sighed and ran his upper hands over the many pockets of the coat, feeling the bolts, gears, packets of matches, power packs the assortment of other stuff. Everything was in its place and Jax smiled in relief. 

[color=f7941d]“Time to go.”[/color]

Jax hooked the thumbs of his lower hands into his belt and strode out of the room and towards the lounge. He made an effort to make it three steps, but he was still short to open. He gave a snort as the last half-step made the door open and let him continue his way to the lounge. 

He missed the first part of the sentence due to the hissing of the door, but it was unmistakingly the doctor’s voice posing the question:

[color=8493ca]-know. What is the meaning of this?"
[/color]

And that was something Jax was keen on knowing himself. So he took a seat at the table making sure there were seats to the right of him.