[Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Star Wars universe. I only claim my numerous OCs.]

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"Well, this is a pleasant place, as always."

A woman stood just outside of the landing where the Talarius I now resided. She commented on this after seeing a passer-by, of some strange green-skinned race, get robbed blind by some human-looking thief. Of course, this had happened in broad daylight, and not even in a very large crowd.

She shook her head. Tatooine certainly hadn't changed any since she'd last been here. She wondered why her passengers, of whom she'd had ten, would want to come here. Overall, though, it was probably best not to ask. They had gone on their way quickly enough.

The woman of the recently arrived ship looked to be young for a captain, perhaps twenty-six years old or so, if that much. She was short of stature, had ash blonde hair that came to her chin, and green eyes that had a sort of calculating look in them. Her clothes were recognizable as those of someone from Corellia, though they were rather dusty already. Nearly everything that was on this planet for more than five minutes had a fine layer of light tan dust or sand on it.

The Talarius was one of those ships which were known as Blockade Runners, especially by those who used them for shady dealings, but they were also widely used by diplomats, and just about anyone who was in need of a good, fairly speedy ship, which was good at avoiding...well, just about anything larger than it. This particular ship, which was not new, but still in good condition, was smaller than the usual, and so configured to be run by a small crew. There were more weapons on it than on a standard model, but most of those were not usually visible - safety precautions, of course. This made it speedier than most, and even harder to latch onto.

While those qualities would have made it an almost perfect pirate vessel, Solera would be the first to assure one, however, that she was running a completely legal business...varied, but on the legal side of things. The truth was a bit less defined, but she generally stayed out of trouble.

"Jays, it's hot," she added, also a particularly obvious comment, wiping her forehead with one arm. Tatooine was a desert planet, after all. "Hannor, do me a favor and stay here," she said as she eyed a particularly suspicious dark-cloaked character which was watching them. The figure quickly moved on when it noticed her glare.

"Fry anything that even thinks about touching my ship," Solera growled irritably. "Jikran, you come with me." The tall and lean man who she had called Hannor nodded and walked back into the ship. The other picked up his blaster pistol, which he had been inspecting closely, and walked over to meet her. Jikran had reddish-brown hair, but he was more recognizable by the odd jagged scar on his face. It ran just across his right eyebrow, and it gave him a more intimidating presence than the wiry man would have achieved otherwise.

"While we're here, we might as well see what we can find in these junk piles they call shops. Every once in a while you'll find something useful," she commented to her companion as she waited for Hannor to reappear. Once he came out, now joined by a couple of others, she started towards the street. She would have gone alone, but it would not have been very wise to wander these streets without a companion of some sort. Solera was quite capable of defending herself again most odds, but she had the good sense to know that it would be silly to think that she wasn't ever in need of someone to watch her back.

***

"I'll give you half that or no deal. I'm not that desperate for an entirely new sensor jammer, you know, I was just looking for parts to improve the old one. What, you think we're in some shady dealings and are in need of a particularly good, new model, eh?" Solera was haggling with a less-than-reputable parts dealer. His shop was no different from any of the others, seemingly hopelessly disorganized, crowded, and dirty, and the dealer himself was typical as well. He was a man in his forties, and he had a shrewd look. He ran a hand through his tousled brown hair and smirked.

"Of course not. I don't go around askin' too many questions, if you catch my drift. I'll give you a thirty percent cut in the price, but no more. You can't find a better deal than that on a system like this one," the man informed her. He was smarter than he looked, this one. He was leaning against the counter, one hand stuck jauntily in his pocket.

Solera rocked back on her heels, an impassive look on her face. She seemed to consider the offer duly, but a mildly curious look crossed her face after some thought. "Hm, so, who did you have report to you about my ship and what did they say? I like to hear comments about her."

"What? Dunno what you're talking about miss, honestly," the dealer stated swiftly. You had to give him some credit. He didn't flinch a bit.

Solera's eyes glinted oddly as they narrowed. "Lies are dangerous things, my friend. I'm sure you know that, being a long-standing businessman such as yourself," she said smoothly, waving one hand casually in a dismissive gesture. "If that's the case..."

The trader made no sign that he'd been intimidated, but it did not take him long to reconsider. "Forty-five, then," he interjected quickly, "but that's my final offer."

Solera smiled pleasantly and held out her hand promptly. "Lovely, I think that's fair enough."

He shook her hand firmly; once again, the dealer's thoughts were unreadable. Solera had a good idea what was going through his mind, however. His darkly tanned skin had paled a little bit in the last few seconds.

He turned and strode off to arrange getting the parts to the landing that Solera had indicated (conveniently not the one that she had used, but one near it), though she knew now that he was probably aware of the exact location of the ship. Really, did they think that she'd never been to Mos Eisley before? Cripes, it had been a while, but not that long.

"He was nervous," Jikran commented without looking up. He was standing nearby, idly inspecting a data pad that had been sitting on a pile of wooden crates in the corner.

"Hm, yes. I'll bet he deals with pirates, bounty hunters, and petty thieves all the time. I wouldn't blame him for being habitually nervous," Solera said, the image of innocence. Her arms were crossed, and she stood without fidgeting, but she had a slightly impatient look to her.

"What are we waiting for? He's supposed to bring us the parts," Jikran asked, finally setting the pad down and looking up at Solera.

"Mm? Oh, nothing." Solera turned about and walked towards the door. She had to pause halfway, though, to sneeze loudly. A curse in some exotic language followed this promptly. She'd thought so. Bloody hell, why did this kind of thing always happen to her?

"You alright, captain?" Jikran queried, concerned, as he caught up with her. Solera recovered quickly enough, though still muttering to herself.

"I'm fine. I don't like the smell of this place, though," Solera muttered to Jikran as they exited the shop. A crowd of scurriers scattered out of their way as they stepped onto the busy street, staying to the side to avoid the worst of the traffic. It was the usual bit, Solera noted, no storm troopers in sight, though, which was unusual.

"The rontos do smell a bit funny...," Jikran said slowly.

"No, I meant...Oh, nevermind," Solera grumbled. She had forgotten that Jikran tended to take things far too literally. One really had to be careful about what they said around him at times. She sometimes wondered if it wasn't all just an act, but if it was, he was extraordinarily good at it.

Solera scowled as she idly snatched her blaster pistol from her hip, and well out of reach from a couple of passing Jawas. She had almost a sixth sense for trouble, especially when it involved the Talarius. To be in her line of work, though, one had to anticipate trouble before it happened. Those who weren't sharp just didn't last long.

Something had struck her as foul from the moment she had set foot on this sandy pit of Hutt-controlled scum, but it was really starting to bug her now.

"Let's just get back to the ship."