My first story on here, please be gentle (but I love constructive criticism to help improve my writing!). This story will (very, very loosely) follow parts of the Smuggler and Trooper arcs from Star Wars: The Old Republic.
With her hands wrapped around the control yoke of the Event Horizon, Rian felt like the ship was an extension of her own body. Her heart beat with the rhythm of the engines, and her breath was the wind that stirred up the dust on the landing pad. She settled the ship down with barely a bump and rubbed her hand fondly across the console. She skimmed her eyes over the displays and then powered the ship down slowly.
She stood from the captain's chair and stretched until her back cracked. It had been a tricky landing, with the Republic forces and the Ord Mantell Separatists trying to pound each other into the planet's volcanic surface, but a bit of fancy flying had helped her avoid all the trouble spots. She rolled her shoulders to loosen them and sauntered off the bridge.
A handful of steps led down to the ship's main hallway. An open area to her left contained the ship's holoterminal and a few chairs, with the crew quarters and kitchen past it, but she veered to her right and headed for the cargo hold. The crates that she'd been contracted to deliver were still neatly stacked along the far wall beside the loading hatch. The rest of the cargo hold was empty, but she hoped to remedy that here. Not that Ord Mantell had many interesting exports - mostly grain, farm animals, and young, bright-eyed kids eager to see the galaxy. Still, flying with an empty hold was a waste of credits, and there were places where everything was in demand.
She sauntered down the hall to the main exit. Her C2 unit clanked down the hall towards her, whirring frantically, but she ignored it. She had won the droid in a sabacc game two spaceports back and had finally disabled its voice unit that morning. She was sure it meant well, but stars did that thing like to talk!
The sun on the landing pad was bright and hot, and she shaded her eyes with one hand as she peered across it. She was already warm and stripped out of her jacket, tossing it back into the ship for Ceetoo to deal with. It left her in a sleeveless white shirt and a pair of snug-fitting but sturdy tan pants with plasteel armour panels cleverly concealed by decorative stitching and strategically-placed pockets. She tightened one of the buckles on her knee-high brown boots and stepped out of the Event Horizon's shadow, noting the appreciative glances cast her way by a few of the spaceport workers. She preened under the attention, putting a bit of a swing in her stride as she headed for the exit.
Rian knew that men found her attractive. Humans in particular seemed to enjoy Twi'leks, and she never hesitated to put that fascination to good use. Her lifestyle kept her in good shape, and the exotic tattoos on her blue lekku and her brilliant green eyes only added to the package. She wasn't overly tall, but she'd never been called petite either.
She checked that her blaster pistol was secure in its holster - Ord Mantell was a war zone after all - and strode out through the gates.