- Joined
- Nov 15, 2016
- Messages
- 34
- Reaction score
- 1
Succumbing to Sentience
Scipio was an ice world. Daska was a Trandoshan. The two didn't mix together very well at all. Daska sat aboard the transport vessel, in a large cabin near the back of the ship. A career based on breaking into places had given him a certain aptitude for guessing the layouts of ships like these, his aptitude currently telling him that he was sat in front of the maintenance bay, the droids occasionally heard working behind him reinforcing this. Unlike ice, Daska didn't have any strong feelings on droids. He'd been shot at by them in the past, but he'd been shot at by most things.
Shifting in his seat, he opened up the satchel bag tucked by his hip and checked through the contents. Blaster, knife, comlink, bomb... Daska didn't usually carry bombs around with him, especially suspiciously remote-activated bombs that passed through security checks. Luckily, this one didn't seem to be counting down to anything, but the fact it was in his bag was what troubled the Trandoshan. He was getting careless. Too careless. A few years of retirement usually did that to you. Hopefully this wasn't Accord-related, nobody could possibly know that he was an operative. Still, lots of people wanted him dead. Rather shiftily Daska picked up his vibroblade knife and began to cut into the device. Here goes nothing...
Scipio was an ice world. Daska was a Trandoshan. The two didn't mix together very well at all. Daska sat aboard the transport vessel, in a large cabin near the back of the ship. A career based on breaking into places had given him a certain aptitude for guessing the layouts of ships like these, his aptitude currently telling him that he was sat in front of the maintenance bay, the droids occasionally heard working behind him reinforcing this. Unlike ice, Daska didn't have any strong feelings on droids. He'd been shot at by them in the past, but he'd been shot at by most things.
Shifting in his seat, he opened up the satchel bag tucked by his hip and checked through the contents. Blaster, knife, comlink, bomb... Daska didn't usually carry bombs around with him, especially suspiciously remote-activated bombs that passed through security checks. Luckily, this one didn't seem to be counting down to anything, but the fact it was in his bag was what troubled the Trandoshan. He was getting careless. Too careless. A few years of retirement usually did that to you. Hopefully this wasn't Accord-related, nobody could possibly know that he was an operative. Still, lots of people wanted him dead. Rather shiftily Daska picked up his vibroblade knife and began to cut into the device. Here goes nothing...
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