“Suck my dick, sugar tits!” came the roaring yell over the sounds of the marketplace. A disturbed woman in a short skirt walked away hurriedly, brushing tears out of her eyes. Her arms crossed as stilettos stepped over the foot of a man whose shoes were so worn through that the calloused balls of his feet stuck out through the bottom. A natural stint of lechery caused his eyes to follow up the calves that negligently stepped over him up to thighs that were quite skinny, but no modesty stopped him from looking even further to areas barely covered by clothing. When she was gone, however, his hand laid on mud and his eyes turned back towards the bricks to his side. Waves of despondence forced him to stand up and hobble down the alleyway, and a well-tailored coat brushed past him.

Bright, shining shoes reflected upwards as his pin-striped pants ushered him past puddles and dips in the desperate pavement. His coat tails caught splashes of muddied water on the undersides, and long legs moved through the narrow pass between brick walls until they stopped at a thick, wooden door. A camera watched the action of the door slamming shut behind him and sent the feed through countless transmitters until it reached its first destination, the police station. Then, it went through various feeds until it reached Grant Helbruck, Private Investigator.

“Do you want to confirm the drug use?” the investigator asked.

“No, I've known him for 6 years now,” his client responded. “If he's at the inn, he's going to get himself a score.” Her bright blue eyes narrowed and she stood up from the chair. She extended her hand. “Some people just can't change. Ah, well... Thank you. As of five minutes ago, you've been paid.” The investigator took her slender hand and shook it, surprised by the strange dichotomy of a dainty grip combined with a weight unbecoming of such a slender hand. It wasn't as if this was the first time he had shaken his client's hand, but it was always a little disturbing.

“Well, Ms. Sagreras, I thank you for your business,” Helbruck told her. “I'm sorry your second has fallen off the band wagon.”

“It was only a matter of time, really,” the raven headed woman told him with a voice that seemed to lend itself to singing. Her back turned and she walked out. “Until we meet again, Mr. Helbruck.” The door shut behind her, and the office was left in her wake. It was a short lift ride from the 5th floor of the building to the bottom, and another short speeder ride from the investigator's building to Grillevein Constructions. Her hand paused in front of the lock to her office and gave the harmonic code in a very light hum that bounced between her fingertips. The door slid into the wall, and she walked over the threshold and sat behind a large desk.

Drafting flimsiplast was askew all over the desk, and the projector at the center had been left on, depicting her newest pet project. It was a stark change from her usual, curved flare. This one was incredibly angular; everything came to a cone-like point at the front of the ship, giving it a sleek look. To Lil, the point at the front and the claw shape in the back were a little too aggressive for her tastes. That was part of why she always tended towards Mon Calamari designs, but if the client wanted something more Kuati, then she would produce it.

Her calves crossed as the weight of her legs pressed into the back of her long, business-like heels. Her eyes raked over a beige pencil skirt momentarily, before she reached to move the projector closer to her. She gently prodded through the air where the holographic ship was displayed, moving to its interior. Sharp, blue eyes scrutinized the internal design, sure that something was off. It was in the main rotunda of the ship. Moments passed in silence as she stared, trying to find out what it was. Finally, the major console area caught her eye. The main controls for all ship functions was on the wrong side. Her client was quite strongly right handed, so naturally, anything that would need to be managed regularly while in hyperspace should be on the right side of the desk. Her thumb and pointer switched the two immediately, and she corrected the electrical design to accommodate it. That seemed to put her mind at rest, and at the sound of her assistant buzzing her, she closed the screen.

“Ms. Sagreras, are you back from your meeting?” came the voice of Zylix, her Epicanthix assistant. He was a bit of a hothead at times, but very good at his job.

“Yes, indeed I am, Z,” Lil responded, with a certain chipper to her voice. “Who's been waiting for me to get back?”

“Well, as always, Bill has made his morning call,” he responded. “A Mr. Xander Starkiller is interested in one of our vessels, and ... I can't pronounce his name, but he's Devaronian, and he wants the updated ETA on his ship.”

“We'll deal with Bill first,” she told him. “What's the crisis this morning?”

“Uh... he was talking gibberish, but I think there was something about the hull being too thin in the design, and that you were making construction impossible,” Z said.

“Let me guess, he realized by the end of the conversation that he had read the draft wrong?”

“Yep.”

“I keep telling him not to bother calling until he's had his coffee. Did he call back later with a legitimate concern?”

“Nah, not yet, boss, but I'm sure he will within the hour.”

“Good,” Lil said, smiling. “Let's move on to Alrinloy N'Vaari.”

“Yea, that guy...” her assistant said, not even trying to pronounce the name. “Anyways, he said he needs it a week sooner.”

“Yeesh, Bill will kill us if he hears this,” Ms. Sagreras winced at the thought. “I can't have my foreman pissed at me. Think you can talk him down to 3 days?”

“He said he's willing to add 10 thousand to the cost,” Z told her.

“Well, then I'll see what I can do with Bill. We'll put off calling him back 'til I've had my meeting with him,” she said. “All right, how about this Starkiller character?”

“You'll love this,” Z said, with a snicker. “Not exactly a law-abiding citizen according to our check. Apparently, he wants a fast ship.”

“Oh, that's just bloody lovely,” Lil said, rolling her eyes. “Lord knows all I need is another pissed off law enforcement official harassing me about my ships.” Her head tilted. A pause entered as she thought it over for a moment. “Then again, I'm bucking for a fight. Either Starkiller will give me one, or someone chasing after the mess he makes will.

“Tell him we'll take the job.”

It seemed endless, as my as the ship he had was a piece of crap it was still better then public transportation. It was enough to make him want to break his head open on the hand rail as he waited for the transport to reach Corellia. He couldn't even remember the last time he had been here. It was his birth world and had been back a few times with his mother but they had always stayed on Lao-Mon.

He pulled his bag closer to him, a light brown travel bag that carried everything he owned minus his weapons. He stood up and moved aimlessly through the crowd. He had been happy to hear that one of the well know shipyard companies would help him find a ship. He knew what he was looking for and was sure he had the money for it as well. Though if he was correct he wouldn't have much left.

He arrived with in the hour the young man looked up at the building momentarily mesmerized by the building in front of him. His thoughts cycling through his head before he took another step. The doors slid open and Xander made his way to the reception desk. There was a man sitting at the desk typing on a computer.

"Umm.. Hi. I'm here to see Miss Sagreras," he said getting her attention.

Zylix looked up at the man who walked in and smiled. He had a knack for placing a face with a voice, so he was pretty sure he knew who it was well before the man spoke. He put his hand to the edge of his well-gelled hair and made sure to keep his look professional. However, it was a little harder than usual, due to the fact that Z found this newcomer quite attractive. His hand retracted from his hair and placed itself on the desk, pushing himself to a standing position.

"Mr. Starkiller, what a pleasure it is to meet you," Zylix said, extending his hand to grasp Xander's. "I recall talking to you on the phone. If I remember correctly, you're interested in a customized freighter?" There was no pause at the end of his question. He only phrased it like one out of courtesy. He dove right back in with, "Well, walk with me, and I'll have you right to her office in a moment." He walked her to the end of the hall and then pressed the buzzer, to warn her that people were coming in. When the door opened, he introduced Xander, and then walked away, back towards his desk.

"Come in, Mr. Starkiller," Lillian said, bringing her legs down to the ground. "Let me hear more about what you want in a ship." She stood up and walked around the side of the desk. A strange smile was on her face, due to the once over that Z gave Xander's backside. She took Xander's hand in her strange grip and met his eyeline powerfully. "I assure you that I can meet any request you may have."

"It's nice to meet you too, Miss Sagreras," he said with a smirk.

"I'm looking for a fast ship as I said, I did a little searching around and if your as confident as you sound, I think this will turn out very well," he said reaching into his bag and fishing out the datapad with all the technical information he had downloaded before his arrival.

"I've been looking into a YT-2000 and have listed a few modifications I could use and have the money to pay for it," he said holding it out for her.

Lillian raised an eyebrow and took the datapad from him. Sure enough, he had a YT-2000 and the things he wanted done to it on the screen. She put a finger through her eyebrow slowly to pre-emptively stop some tension. Usually, she considered requests like this to be something of an insult. A pre-made ship? Modifications? This guy has to be kidding! she thought. I could do that without touching the damn ship, and I suck at the whole telekinesis thing. She took a breath while looking at the specifications, and then decided that she could take care of this in the span of 2 days, and make some quick cash. Besides, she had done all her planning for the week. All she was going to be doing was money management, and even that was mostly handled. If she simply kept her communicator on, she could leave the office and have Z tell her if any new clients came in.

"Mr. Starkiller," Lil began. "Normally, people who come into my office tell me what they want, and then I engineer everything myself. The reason for this is... well, frankly, because most people recognize that I have a certain expertise in the area of the most efficient way to make a ship do what they want. I usually even take a meal to get to know a client, so that I can suit a ship to their personality.

"So, while I recognize that you don't have time for me to build you a ship from scratch, why don't you at least take the time to sit down with me right now and tell me what kind of business you intend this ship for." The words may have indicated that it was a question, but her tone indicated otherwise. She gestured her hand towards a comfortable chair next to her desk and moved to plant her rear on the smooth top of the desk. "If you require my confidentiality agreement in writing, I am perfectly happy to get the paperwork, or I could just give you my assurance that no party outside this room will hear of your specific request.

"To start, I just need to know things like: the size of your operation, what you usually end up moving inside your freighter, the types of problems you may encounter, how many guests you entertain... basic ship utility things."

"I'm an Archaeologist," he said taking a seat offered to him.

"But in my line of work, the items I find usually are of a sensitive or much sought after nature, having a fast ship can be a great asset when trying to out run bandits, pirates and rival Archaeologists," he said, doing his best to relax a bit.

"I will admit that sometimes my work can come between myself and the authorities. But I hardly catgorize it as my fault it's simply the nature of my work," he added in, defending himself and his work.

"I wouldn't mind a custom ship, but I don't really have much time let alone the funds for it," he said.

"Well, sticking to modifying the YT-2000 is not an issue," Lillian told him. While being given a job as simple as a modification was a bit of a snub, she had never been one to let pride get in the way of a job... Though it had certainly taken a moment to get over her original shock. "It's a versatile ship, and I know the structure well." She wasn't in the mood to divulge just how well she knew the ship, as that might give the man a clue to her age, and she found it simpler to simply let people think she was human.

"Anyways, the modifications you specified are common ones," she remarked. She managed to refrain from adding 'but entirely unhelpful' to the end of the statement. "Frankly, I wouldn't let you bother with a few of them. The A-67 twin booster gives more weight than it does boost, so it takes way too long to get up to any speed that'll help you out. The three crystals you specified actually just had an updated version put out on the market, so there's really no need to bother with them." At this point, she paused, looking at the ship, her mind refocused on what was in front of her.

Her mind went into planning mode, and her gaze zeroed in on the datapad in front of her. She spoke rapidly, as if she were trying to keep up with her mind, "If this ship is currently unmodified, I can add 2 tons of storage space, particularly in inner hull areas. Most of this will be slightly harder to get to, but if you're looking to hide something from pirates, these spots will do you nicely.

"And pirates are notorious for forgetting to leave a hull intact and simply scavenging after you're already dead, so I might use some of the materials from the inside to help solidify the outside." There was no pause here, but it would have been appropriate if she had actually pretended like she needed to breathe between sentences. Unfortunately, Lil was in her zone. "Speaking of recycling, there's a large amount of energy that goes to waste in the way this wiring is set up. Way too much of it is getting drawn off in heat. We could boost the power to your shields by 3-fold without adding a single pound, if we simply gave you new insulation.

"Also, I can update your navicomputer and cut down on astromechs you may need by giving you some new software. I wrote it myself, and in 10 years, I've never had a complaint since I finished the update." Finally, she took a pause and looked up at her client. "Tell me, how do you feel about weapons?"

"Well..." he started.

Weapons were usually an important part of any ship. But as it was he was by himself and to his knowledge a YT-2000 only had turrets a gunner would operate. A crew was usually hired before his excavations and unfortunately most didn't make it out, due to predators, traps and rivals who liked to hire mercenaries to "help" them.

"I don't have a crew, the turrets that come with the design are pretty much useless without anyone to use them. What would you suggest?" he asked,