Collaboration with: [@Landain] & [@Taka]

 [hr]

“Sending the code now.” 

A series of beeps emitted from the large panel of flashing lights, switches, and buttons located near the yoke of [i][color=cyan]the Bane[/color][/i]. Wear and tear had taken its toll on the dash, leaving tiny nicks and scratches across the metallic panel. Certain buttons faded from frequent use. Worse of all was the seat that the captain currently reclined in. The leather had seen much better days, with holes exposing the padding within, and so much of it was so worn down that the seat had a skewbald texture to it.

Sat in that seat, before the dash was a duro woman, her hands clasped together and a serious look as she stared out at the massive space station before her. Her red eyes lacked any pupils, making it hard to tell just where she was staring, but Captain Jade Sim was staring pensively at the massive turrets that protected the space station. 

“Everything checks out. Prepare to dock.”

The voice came back to her through a speaker nearby. Jade released her bated breath. Such were the dangers of running a wanted ship. You could alter and switch Chain codes all you want, but it never made the occupation less dangerous. Most officials did not have the resources and time to dig up information on a ship, especially one so old as [i][color=cyan]the Bane[/color][/i], but it only took one to ruin a good thing.

“You heard the man, Vaxxi. Bring her in” the woman finally said, letting her relief slip into her voice as she thrust a finger into the air, a smile forming on her face. Her eyes flickered to the panel to ensure her comlinks were off before she turned to the other figure in the bridge, the one that wasn't her co-pilot and old ally. The Jedi. The word still made her spine tingle, as if just thinking it painted a bullseye on her back.

[i]‘...Snnnnrrrrrt, snnnnnrrrrt, snnnnnnrrrrrt…’[/i] Korvax snored loudly in the cargo section of the Dayvan cargo ship. He was strapped into a canvas and aluminum constructed row of seats along the port side of the fuselage that could be removed to accommodate more stores if needed. For now, the ship wasn’t carrying too much and the seats were installed. As the vessel neared it docking moorings, Korvax was shaken out of his dream. He was slow to become alert, but looked around recognizing his surroundings. Afterall, it had been about ten years he had been working on this ship.

After unstrapping his buckles, he made his way to the bridge. The port whooshed open allowing him access. The other two crewmates were seated facing forward as Jade Sim made her way towards the tractor beam drawing [i][color=cyan]the Bane[/color][/i] into its moorings. He looked at Quin who was attentively staring at the station they were docking at. “Vallis, do you know what we are doing here?” He then looked at Jade, “Cap’n?”

“You have the data pad, right?” She asked, moving past Quin without making eye contact. They had worked together for some time, and she liked the boy. He was sweet, in a sort of naive way, but she was focused on the job. She moved to her gear behind him, attaching her holster and wrist mount as she waited for his reply. 

The sound of the navigation map beeped loudly as the fingers of the only human onboard continued to mess with it. The course of [i][color=cyan]the Bane[/i][/color] had already been constructed but the man who would be the Navigator of the most illustrious ship in the galaxy, at least that's what he called it, wanted to make sure any future changes would be easy. A tingle at the tip of spine resonated throughout the rest of his body, his mind wandering as it attempted to figure out why. The Jedi, as he was known to the crew only, couldn’t make heads or tails of why the tingle happened. 

The Force was a mysterious entity in the Galaxy, living and ever present, but never giving a straight answer or at least that was how it felt to Quin. After his mom’s passing, he always felt something was off. His senses weren’t as sharp as they were before, things would rattle his mind in ways he had never expected before, The Force feeling disconnected from him at times. Drifting further and further, his thoughts ran rampant before he heard the Captain and Korvax. 

“I have the datapad.” 

Quin reached over to retrieve, turning it on with a touch and passing to the Captain and dear friend Jade. Ever since he had joined, it had been a wild ride and he respected her with the full breadth of his being. And then there was Korvax. Truthfully Quin had no issue with the Ugnaught, while not the most empathetic, he was definitely the best drinking buddy.

Jade extended her arm behind her and accepted the datapad before tapping it to bring up the information within. A rotating picture of the informant flashed onto the datapad: A young human male with long hair and a scruffy beard. The alias given beside him was ‘Mynock,’ which caused Jade to scratch her chin. Why a beautiful young man like this would have such a vile name made her curious. Adrenaline was already starting to pump through her veins now, the mystery, the allure, this was what being a smuggler was all about.

Standard procedure rebel gathering. Meet somewhere discreet enough to not to be questioned, but open enough not to be isolated. Speakeasies in hives of scum and villainy were usually the best place, and this space station had a plethora of spots like this. As per usual, a basic description of the contact, along with their alias, would be forwarded to [i][color=cyan]the Bane[/color][/i] crew in some form or another. 

“This is where we are meeting the contact. Probably in the worst bar they could find. You’d think avoiding the scum would be the idea”

Jade turned her head back to Quin, now grinning ear to ear at his comments about their rendezvous. She wiggled a finger and shook her head at his admonishment of their locale.

“If the rebels were in the practice of avoiding scum, then they wouldn’t be working with us, would they?” She snarked before leaning down to rest a hand on his head. 

She may have only been a year older, but Jade had seen the galaxy and learned so much with Dura. Quinn had insights into mystical practices she could never fathom understanding, but at times it amused her that she was, in fact, a seasoned smuggler now, and some of that experience gave her information only a select few bold characters were privy to.

“Take a look at this space station. Notice the distinct lack of imperial banners and general disrepair,” She replied, ushering with her other hand towards the rapidly encroaching space port. The place had certainly seen better years. The ground in the ship bay had scuffs from the occasional hash entry, the exterior having thousands of tiny bumps too minimal to bother with buffing out but noticeable in their multitude, all likely from stray shrapnel or tiny meteors. Grease stains and scorch marks left a grimy appearance on the ship bay before them.

“That’s because this is an independently owned space station. They pay their taxes, sure, and plenty of people stop here for totally legal business: probably coming in for pit stops or a bite to eat before your next jump,” She mused as the tractor beam sent them through the containment field. Jade rushed back to her seat to guide the ship the rest of the way down from here, gently positioning her ship between various other customized lightweight cruisers and civilian vehicles.

“But the real money for a place like this is with smugglers like us” She said as she flicked a series of switches, hearing the engines wind down, watching the various spacers below them walk the space port like dozens of little ants. The space station was bustling, even in the docking bay.
“They look the other way while we do our business, and suddenly you’ve got frequent customers and loyal ones too,” She said as she spun the pilot's seat around to look at Quinn.
“A place like this, perfect for smuggling, we call that a ‘shadow port’. Best places to find business, and the more populated, the better.” She finally said, stretching her back as she did. 

“So we’re meeting at Hutt’s tail? Man, that brings back memories,” She said as she looked back at the datapad, but her eyes drifted away in a wistful expression. It had been over a year since she had lost Dura. Since THEY had lost Dura more accurately, but everything seemed to remind her of him. The Hutt’s Tail was a favorite haunt of his. She had such vivid memories of sipping nectar wines and huffing spiceblends, the latter of which likely made the memory so vivid. 

A deep sigh recollected the young captain’s composure. She wasn’t there for leisure, and she didn’t have time to doddle on the past. The rebels were sticking their neck out trying to get her attention and she had to remain professional here. A few taps on the datapad wiped the information stored on it before she started heading off the ship.

“Alright boys, look alive”