A Simple Babysitter Mission

OOC: Hi there. I would prefer you to PM me before you join, if you please. Also, Cassandra probably would not accept a job transporting an Imp or particularly… morally deficient… character. I left the location of the thread open for flexibility, and really this story could go anywhere. I was thinking they could run into some enemies to make it more interesting. Who knows, maybe a little romance could be fun too. Let me know if your interested and we will speak. My regular post length is probably about twice this length, but I kept it vague for flexibility.

The cantina on this planet was like any other; filled with smoke, indecipherable chatter, and bad jazz. Her worn spacers boots clicked gently against the textured metal flooring. A myriad of alien faces greeted her, some indifferent, some hostile. It was the kind of environment that Cassandra had become rather comfortable in, since she had been on her own. The daylight was fading, viewed through the grimy windows. As such, business was picking up in the place. The regulars began to show up, chatting up the bartender, while Cassandra calmly took a seat at a booth off in the corner.

She sighed heavily as she sunk into the padded seat, absently blowing a lock of dark hair that had escaped her braid out of her face. She hoped whoever she was supposed to transport would not make her wait too long. This mission was routine and uninteresting. And if it did get interesting, she expected a fraking payraise. The Twi'Lek girl serving drinks sauntered over to her table, her face falling at the sight of a female patron. No, thought Cass, she wasn't going to coax any huge tips out of her with those swaying hips. Barely masking her frown, she walked up and bloody-near demanded her order.

"What'll ya have?"

Cassandra responded politely. "Correllian whiskey, please. Im not looking forward to this meeting." As if the girl cared for her explanation. She said nothing as she headed to the bar to complete the order. Cass tried to blink the tiredness from her eyes. She was not yet used to the time on this world, having only been there for a few hours. Perhaps it was poor form to be drinking right after she awoke.

But then again, everyone else was doing it. The thought provoked a good-humored smile to adorn her lips. She closed her eyes, the smile still upon her face. Maybe he would be a nice change of pace from the smugglers she was used to dealing with. Maybe, even, he was from the Republic. She could respect that. I suppose I'll jut have to wait and see…

Hours passed. The bastard was late. And Cassandra was getting buzzed. She probably was not in the best of condition to be flying, but there was time. As she sat, she tried to think of ways to improve her ship without breaking the bank. In truth, she had survived on her fathers stock systems up till now, with minor updates in certain areas. Nothing major. But she's still fast as anything. Its true, the Freedom was about as fast as a light freighter can get. She could use a new automated anti-troop turret. The targeting lately was all out of wack.

Sighing once more, she rested her cheek on her hand. Having no clue as to the Identity of her assignment was rather unnerving to her. There was no telling what her employer was up to.

Cassandra frowned, picking at the border of the white cotton shirt. It was beggining to fray. Blast it, I need a real job. Her selectiveness with clients was taking its toll on her bank account. The only thing she owned that was top-notch was her ship, and that was only because he had been rich as all hell. She still hadn't tracked down his killers. Absently, she wondered if she ever would. Somehow she doubted it. Besides, she didn't exactly possess the firepower to take them out.

She muttered bitterly under her breath. Thinking about this always made her need a drink more than anything. It was better than crying. She tapped her glass impatiently on the surface of the table. "Waitress! I'm thirsty!"