Private How I Met Your Smuggler

[Dispara Na'Gara]

Location: Mijos System, Outer Rim
Tag: Miya Ashera

"Ready to drop into the Mijos System." The Saurin helmsman's gravely voice announced.

"Brace." Captain Dispara replied flatly. The heavily tattooed pirate witch lounged in the corvette's captains chair, a leg hanging over one arm, her elbow resting on the other, but did little else to prepare for the drop from hyperspace. The streaks outside the bridge portals came to a sudden halt, transforming instantly into a myriad of tiny points of light.

The Witch's Boudoir had popped into this particular system because the nearby planet was a stop over for many vessels traveling between the planets Lutrillia and Gerrenthum. That meant even less law enforcement than around either of those planets. Granted, it was a pretty remote hyperlane spur. But it could mean some small but easy pickings to keep Dispara and the crew's pockets lined with credits.

"Okay Gut, give me a scan and show me some tender pickings." The half-Sephi ordered the helmsman, her leg dangling over the arm of her chair swinging slightly.

A few moments later, the Saurin again spoke up as his reptilian eyes scanned the sensor displays. "A ship not far from here, and well away from the planet. Small, but it might be something."

"Set a course to intercept." Dispara commanded.

Not long after, the pirate corvette drew up to a light freighter. The vessel had seen better days. A blue Twi'lek stepped down from a console to stand next to the captain's chair, her cybernetic arm draping over it's back. First Mate Tyra leaned towards the captain, her voice lowered. "Do you think that piece of crap has anything of value in it?"

"Never judge a hologram by it's display. Might be some deceptive devil trying to throw off malevolent types like us, or the law." Dispara quipped at her old friend. "Get the ion batteries charged up." Tyra turned to obey. Turning to an Epicanthix at another console, the dread-locked captain called, "Mouse, hail that vessel."

 

[Miya Ashera]

The stars shone like scattered jewels against the endless blackness of space. A single light freighter drifted through the void, its engines coughing and sputtering with every jolt of acceleration. It was a pitiful sight, with panels missing, wires exposed within the ship's exterior, and a general sense of disrepair.

Miya sat in the cockpit, staring out at the inky darkness with a bored expression. Her fingers drummed restlessly against the console, as if she were impatient for something, anything to happen. The ship was her home, her livelihood, and yet it felt like little more than a floating prison.

As she gazed out into the void, Miya's thoughts turned to the illegal cargo she was carrying. It was risky, but the profit margins were too good to pass up. She was used to living on the edge, always pushing the boundaries and taking risks. It was what made life exciting, and profitable.

Suddenly, a series of beeps and alerts drew Miya's attention back to the console. She frowned as she scanned the sensors, her eyes widening as she realized what was happening. Pirates. A corvette was closing in on her position, weapons charged and ready.

Miya's heart began to race as she considered her options. She could try to run, but the freighter was in no condition to outrun a ship like that. She could try to fight, but that would be suicide. No, her only option was to try to talk her way out of it.

With a deep breath, Miya steeled herself and began to prepare for the inevitable encounter. She leaned against the console of her decrepit freighter, and answered the holo. Miya's skin was a vibrant shade of pink, typical of her Zeltron heritage. Her long hair, a vibrant shade of purple, cascaded down her back in loose waves. Her outfit was practical yet stylish, a tight-fitting leather jacket and pants with various pockets and compartments for her weapons and tools.

"Well, this is awkward. I was just about to make myself a cup of tea and now you've come and interrupted my plans. What do you want?"

Despite the ship's shabby state, Miya's sharp features were set with an air of self-assurance, as if she was accustomed to facing challenges head-on.

Dispara Na'Gara

 

[Dispara Na'Gara]

Location: Mijos System, Outer Rim
Tag: Miya Ashera

The decrepit freighter answered the hail, and a holo-image popped up from the main transceiver. What came through was not exactly the scruffy space-jockey Dispara expected to see on such junker. To the contrary, it was a young woman, a Zeltron, pink-skinned with a rich violet mane. A scar over one eye gave the spacer some character.

Dispara did not adjust her posture, remaining reclined in her captain's chair, leg over one arm. She was a contrast to the attractive, fashionably utilitarian-dressed Zeltron with her cascading purple locks. The pirate's hair was a mass of crimson dreadlocks that fell over both back and front of her shoulders, a pair of pointed ears peeking through. Her skin was heavily tattooed and she wore a patchwork of armorweave that left a conspicuous amount of that tattooed skin unprotected.

When the Zeltron spoke, a smirk touched the pirate's lips. She liked this one already. The pirate witch studied the woman in the holo-image, seeing no indication of anxiety over the armed corvette looming outside her portal. She was a cool captain, and it intrigued Dispara as to what she was up to in that old clunker.

"Well, tea time huh? Have enough for me and some of my friend's, we'd love to come aboard and visit. If you don't have room, a captain to captain tea would be nice too" The half-Sephi quipped, her lilted speech tinged with sarcasm.

 

[Miya Ashera]

Kark. Miya definitely got some pirate vibes from the encounter. It didn't seem like she was talking to a governmental representative, nor was the tone that of friendly explorers who happened upon each other. The air was thick with tension and danger. But what could she do? Resistance meant death.

She assessed the situation, trying to buy time - though to what end she did not know. Habit. "Ah, I only made enough for a cup and a refill. Tell you what, you're welcome to my second round, but you'll have to tell your friends about it when you go back," she said, implying that they weren't invited, without explicitly stating so. "Open space can be so boring sometimes. Captain to captain sounds grancha" (Huttese for very good).

The woman seemed to be offering her an olive branch, or at least a temporary truce. Miya tried to read the woman's expression over the holo, but it was hard to tell what she was thinking.

Miya was a survivor; she'd faced worse situations than this and always managed to come out on top. Chances were this woman was of a similar ilk to those she brushed shoulders with on a regular basis. The fact that she hadn't opened fire first and asked questions later was a good early sign. But Miya knew she couldn't let her guard down just yet. She needed to stay alert and be ready for anything.

As she waited for the woman to make the next move, Miya couldn't help but wonder what was going to happen next. Would they continue to play nice, or would things take a turn for the worse? Only time would tell.

Dispara Na'Gara

 

[Dispara Na'Gara]

Location: Mijos System, Outer Rim
Tag: Miya Ashera

"Hmmph..." The pirate noised, her eyes on the holo of the Zeltron. A few of the bridge crew murmured together, another chuckled at the stranger's response to their captain. The Twi'lek first mate stepped closer to the captain's chair, a smirk on her face, but said nothing. Not while the channel was open. Tyra could see it in the half-sephi's mirthful gaze. The captain liked this spacer already.

Dispara slid her leg from over the arm of the chair, sitting more upright, then leaning forward, her elbows on her knees. Long, thick crimson dreadlocks fell to frame her face as she studied the freighter captain. The woman's ship was no threat, and didn't appear to promise anything of value either. The pirates could have just dismissed the vessel and sought prizes elsewhere. Even if the Zeltron was smuggling something of value, it couldn't have been much on that size ship.

The pirate witch looked to her first mate. the Twi'lek had a cybernetic arm that replaced her own arm, blown off in an unfortunate encounter with Enclave Mandalorians. Dispara had made sure that arm was replaced promptly. Her emerald gaze swung back to the holo. "Eniki (okay), heat up the water, I'll be right over. Meet you at your airlock." The shaman corsair answered with a wry grin and cut the signal.

"Gut, put us in position to put one of the force tubes in line with her airlock. Tyra, keep my seat warm." Dispara ordered as she rose from her chair. She headed for the exit. "And don't be jealous!"

Mouse, the Epicanthix muttered under her breath. "The Chief isn't going to like this." Dispara halted, turned and took a few steps towards the tall woman. "Then don't tell him until I leave." Dispara scowled up at the powerful woman, then smirked and reached up to pinch her cheek.

Shortly after, Dispara stood before one of the Boudoir's airlocks. With nothing more than her sidearm, a simple knife and a comm, She nodded to the petite Atrisian pirate-tech standing next to the lock. Dispara nodded to her. "If she has any cookies, I'll bring some back." She teased the slicer they called Cakes. Cakes activated the force tube and opened the airlock. Beyond the lock, all one could see was the empty void of space between the two ships, sans the implosion of zero atmosphere. Dispara strode into the force-field tunnel without a thought, seeming to walk through space until she reached the airlock of the Zeltron's ship, using the pommel of her knife to bang on the hatch. Only after Dispara entered the ship would Cakes shut down the tube. She stood with blaster ready. Just in case.