Coruscant, Level 1313.
It had been a long time since Dhari Rast last maneuvered through the chaotic air traffic of the capital world of the Republic. Courtesy of luck that never lasted, always poised to plunge her into the depths of misfortune, the Mirialan had simply not been in a situation that warranted a trip to the ecumenopolis. Sure, there were credits to be made amongst the skyscrapers, and Dhari always liked to go where the credits flowed from. But between losing her ship and literally beating her way back to a situation with even a modicum of stability, she hadn’t had much time to consider where the credits flowed from so much as to just grasp on to whatever credits she could get her bony fingers on.
Luckily, that had changed. And with more credit chits to her name than she had had in a while, Dhari had widened her scope a bit. And this opportunity on Coruscant had been too good to pass up.
The Blacklight was well on its way down one of Coruscant’s underworld portals. Those giant tubes always freaked Dhari out. They looked like they could have been burrowed by some gargantuan, metallic worm, and her and the hundreds of additional vessels descending it in slow, circular patterns had been lured deep into its maw by the opportunities found at the bottom. Besides being incredibly creepy, maneuvering the descent was in itself more like a spacewalk than a cake walk. Some form of order was upheld by necessity – without it, many of the ships were likely to crash on the way up or down the portal. But there were daredevils aplenty, zooming and whizzing past in chaotic straight-shots, willing to risk injury and a fiery death to save time.
Normally, Dhari would count herself among them. On this run, however, her shipment was far too valuable and, not to mention, combustible to risk a fast descent. Her cargo hold was just stocked with packaged, long-life foods and other non-perishable consumables, but the hidden compartments contained unrefined sansanna spice and some of the kitchen equipment needed to cook it. Her job was not only to transport the goods to a warehouse in the Works, down on Level 1313, but also to help set up the spice kitchen that would ‘feed’ the many hungry mouths down there. Sure, it was a bit of a detour for her, getting involved with anything other than smuggling the goods, but she had taken more and more of those types of jobs lately. Perhaps she should add more than just smuggler to her job description.
It took a while, but eventually the Blacklight reached the exit to Level 1313. Still piloting her freighter conservatively, Dhari followed the instructions that she’d received from the broker she had scored the job through. Normally, ships of the Blacklight’s size would fly to the Docks, where there were landing platforms available. But moving all of the valuable goods from the Docks to the warehouse in the Works seemed a far too precarious situation to put oneself in. Thankfully, the broker had supplied the coordinates of a scrapyard with enough space for a ship or two to land safely… or safe-ish, anyway. The owner of the scrapyard had been paid off to keep their mouth shut, of course. But as Dhari set the Blacklight down between piles of scrap that towered over the freighter, she scanned her surroundings through the cockpit’s viewport anyway. You can never be too careful in the Undercity.
Turning off the Blacklight’s engines and letting the shadows surround her ship, Dhari engaged the comms on a secure line. “Archer,” she said. “I’ve reached the landing zone. You close?”
@The Good Doctor
