A nod of thanks towards the Jedi Master conveyed Corran's appreciation for her politeness. It had been... awhile since guests were aboard his personal ship. Especially women. He was never sloppy but maybe some baby food sat on the counter or a towel hung over a chair. Best to just go first and ward off any embarrassment. The ramp hit the paved starport floor and the Ranger moved to walk up the incline when a question gave him pause. He glanced over his shoulder for a beat before replying slowly, "Most of it came this way. I bought it off a hobbyist who was restoring it to all original make. But I fix it myself entirely. So far, at least." Heading up the ramp, the others would notice that the usually rigid and stoic man was talking with a hint of casualness in his voice. A glimpse of the man behind the badge.
Corran extended a hand to the hallway on the immediate left that went towards the back of the ship when as the trio boarded. "The engines operate smooth as the day they were made. Only had a problem once and that was because of some hungry gizkas." An memory of Bast Emblai in a flight suit flashed before his mind. He was so young then. Before... Silvi's mother. Before the Sith. Talking about the ship helped pull back from that mental ledge. "The engine was upgraded but had been returned to stock by the original owner. I'm glad he did because it makes repairs and parts easier to find." Corran turned around and began walking backwards to the common area. "I've kept this old bird running on a budget for years."
The common area opened up to the pilot and his two guests as they passed through a semi-circular threshold. Immediately to the right was a small kitchenette with a sink and a fridge. An engineering and communication suite sat to the immediate left, complete with a swivel chair. Shelves built into the wall held a massive library of datapad and holobooks. Texts of various system and planetary laws. Jurisprudence of the New Republic High Court. Some works of escapist fiction. Manuals for different blasters, ship, parts, and starships. An entire section was dedicated to history ranging from The Trade Federation's Follies: How Republic Corporations Failed to Warlord: The Fracturing of the Galactic Empire. Finally, a semi-circular padded booth sat around a holo-toble that could be used for anything from games to eating. Above it was a sign painted in red that proclaimed The Crimson Venture in stylized writing.
"Make yourselves at home," Corran offered vaguely to the room. Everything in the ship they've seen so far was immaculately clean. Spotless to exacting standards. A habit formed from his strict trade ship days. The bearded man marched off to the hallway across the room that lead to the private quarters. He sealed the door to his room and checked on the others. Beds were made and everything fine. Phew. Moments later, Corran reappeared. "Guest quarters are just down that way. Take the two on the left side. The one furthest on the right is a customized brig." Fondor was clear on the other side of the Deep Core from Coruscant. They may or may not rest during the trip. The option was there, though.
With sections of the ship open to Izel and Nara, the light freighter's captain excused himself, "I'll get us ready for take-off. You're free to join me in the cockpit at your leisure. Just make sure to buckle up." With that, the Ranger about-faced and strode out of the common area and to the off-angled cockpit. Corran plopped down into the captain's chair and sighed. This was harder than he thought. The blond ranger buckled himself in, placed on a headset, and began flipping switches and adjusting knobs to prep the ship for liftoff. The nearest Coruscant tower had a quick, professional back-and-forth. If the two women were in the cockpit, he would speak to them directly. If not, they'd hear the pilot over the intercom, "We have been cleared for departure. For your safety, stay buckled in until we break orbit." Not that anything bad was gonna happen, but guidelines were guidelines.
@Reyn @Charndley
Corran extended a hand to the hallway on the immediate left that went towards the back of the ship when as the trio boarded. "The engines operate smooth as the day they were made. Only had a problem once and that was because of some hungry gizkas." An memory of Bast Emblai in a flight suit flashed before his mind. He was so young then. Before... Silvi's mother. Before the Sith. Talking about the ship helped pull back from that mental ledge. "The engine was upgraded but had been returned to stock by the original owner. I'm glad he did because it makes repairs and parts easier to find." Corran turned around and began walking backwards to the common area. "I've kept this old bird running on a budget for years."
The common area opened up to the pilot and his two guests as they passed through a semi-circular threshold. Immediately to the right was a small kitchenette with a sink and a fridge. An engineering and communication suite sat to the immediate left, complete with a swivel chair. Shelves built into the wall held a massive library of datapad and holobooks. Texts of various system and planetary laws. Jurisprudence of the New Republic High Court. Some works of escapist fiction. Manuals for different blasters, ship, parts, and starships. An entire section was dedicated to history ranging from The Trade Federation's Follies: How Republic Corporations Failed to Warlord: The Fracturing of the Galactic Empire. Finally, a semi-circular padded booth sat around a holo-toble that could be used for anything from games to eating. Above it was a sign painted in red that proclaimed The Crimson Venture in stylized writing.
"Make yourselves at home," Corran offered vaguely to the room. Everything in the ship they've seen so far was immaculately clean. Spotless to exacting standards. A habit formed from his strict trade ship days. The bearded man marched off to the hallway across the room that lead to the private quarters. He sealed the door to his room and checked on the others. Beds were made and everything fine. Phew. Moments later, Corran reappeared. "Guest quarters are just down that way. Take the two on the left side. The one furthest on the right is a customized brig." Fondor was clear on the other side of the Deep Core from Coruscant. They may or may not rest during the trip. The option was there, though.
With sections of the ship open to Izel and Nara, the light freighter's captain excused himself, "I'll get us ready for take-off. You're free to join me in the cockpit at your leisure. Just make sure to buckle up." With that, the Ranger about-faced and strode out of the common area and to the off-angled cockpit. Corran plopped down into the captain's chair and sighed. This was harder than he thought. The blond ranger buckled himself in, placed on a headset, and began flipping switches and adjusting knobs to prep the ship for liftoff. The nearest Coruscant tower had a quick, professional back-and-forth. If the two women were in the cockpit, he would speak to them directly. If not, they'd hear the pilot over the intercom, "We have been cleared for departure. For your safety, stay buckled in until we break orbit." Not that anything bad was gonna happen, but guidelines were guidelines.
@Reyn @Charndley