crimsonjack

Less than three rotations planetside and Jod's already getting restless. He couldn't remember the last time that he had spent that long in one place, especially one place without any avenues to move on when the urge called or circumstances forced him. (The recent stay in the brig didn't count. That was an anomaly and he was treating it as such.)

All he asked was a small ship and a hyperspace route to steer her by. He didn't need his former command, hulking and intimidating and bristling with weapons. He didn't need the Onyx Cinder in all her creaking, antique glory. By this point into his Darrow stay he would've settled for just a battered Clone War era snub-fighter. Kriff, he was desperate enough to even briefly entertain the ridiculous thought that perhaps he could build his own transportation. But then he saw the freighter.

It's only an old YT-1300 model and a particularly rough one at that, nothing special, but to Jod's eyes it was the most beautiful thing he'd seen yet in the whole Force-forsaken city. So it was perfectly reasonable that within thirty seconds of making the discovery he was underneath her, prying off a panel and practically elbow deep in wires in an effort to get the boarding ramp down.