Post by Corran Boid on Oct 4, 2012 23:24:48 GMT -5
The noon day sun was making his job a bit harder most of ship's outer skin had heated up to the point of being too hot to touch, atleast for his right hand. Yet still it did not slow the work for one Corran Boid. The cargo tranport runner had seen better days from the look on the outside. The inside was another matter entirely, fairly new engine, sensor w/shielding and scattering features thanks to one Ai Tsuchiya. The seats were plush all but on his own which was moded from a land craft and savagely bolted to the decking. The brisk cold air of the inside taunted him as he worked in his own sweat trying to replace a dented nose shield and buffer panel, which seemed to always keep ripping off on re-entery.
Corran had been and was known to the locals as the 'tinman' not to be confused with the lawman of the outer rims. The monacur came from a young girl who was saved by him. She watched him fend off five grown men with guns and knives and metal pipes. She watched as he took each blow with his left arm and delivered crushing kicks with the same side foot. Why she came up with the title of tin was she swear she could hear a metal clang each time he was hit or hit back.
Many had other experiances with him being brutally honest and straight forward with his words and more than that his deeds. Yet there were times during those darker than normal nights when the lower thugs roamed the docks told tales of a monster which they were assailed by, main because they were looking for a quick boost and found Corran in one of his fits. Out of a crew of ten two came back with broken bones and deep cuts telling tales of a reaver at the docks. Most simply laughed at them and ran them out of town as cowards. Yet all the things seemed to tie back to Boid and his times being there.
So here again he was trying to make his ship space worthy for another quick departure. Lifting the panel into place with his left arm he set the bolts with his right from a pocket from a pouch at his waist. The sweat of the strain was showing on his face and his stomuch area was twitching as anything but his left arm and leg was as solid as stone or .....metal. Finally getting two of the holding bolts in place he let go of the panel. Stepping back into the shadow of the ship he with drew a fancy handcurchif to wipe his brow and stuffed it back into his hip pocket.
Corran had been and was known to the locals as the 'tinman' not to be confused with the lawman of the outer rims. The monacur came from a young girl who was saved by him. She watched him fend off five grown men with guns and knives and metal pipes. She watched as he took each blow with his left arm and delivered crushing kicks with the same side foot. Why she came up with the title of tin was she swear she could hear a metal clang each time he was hit or hit back.
Many had other experiances with him being brutally honest and straight forward with his words and more than that his deeds. Yet there were times during those darker than normal nights when the lower thugs roamed the docks told tales of a monster which they were assailed by, main because they were looking for a quick boost and found Corran in one of his fits. Out of a crew of ten two came back with broken bones and deep cuts telling tales of a reaver at the docks. Most simply laughed at them and ran them out of town as cowards. Yet all the things seemed to tie back to Boid and his times being there.
So here again he was trying to make his ship space worthy for another quick departure. Lifting the panel into place with his left arm he set the bolts with his right from a pocket from a pouch at his waist. The sweat of the strain was showing on his face and his stomuch area was twitching as anything but his left arm and leg was as solid as stone or .....metal. Finally getting two of the holding bolts in place he let go of the panel. Stepping back into the shadow of the ship he with drew a fancy handcurchif to wipe his brow and stuffed it back into his hip pocket.