<i>The Republic has fallen. Thousands of generations of relative peace collapsed in a single moment, by the thunderous applause of thousands of delegates in the Galactic Senate, led by the voice of Supreme Chancellor Sheev Palpatine, self-proclaimed Emperor of the First Galactic Empire.<br/>
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As planetary systems fall, one after another, to the Empire’s war campaign, some beings find a relative peace of their own. Smugglers across the galaxy align themselves with either the Imperials or the budding Rebellion, using their heavily modified ships to carry cargo for both sides of the conflict, some even dying for the different causes.<br/>
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One particular ship, a heavily modified <a class="link link--external" href="http://img.swcombine.com//ships/166/large.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">Dynamic-class freighter</a> under the designation <b>Lucky Hand</b>, seems to hang in the balance, running cargoes for both the Rebellion and the Empire. Her crew, a ragtag few beings, travel the stars under the command of captain Kameron Brenner, a Corellian gambler-turned-smuggler with a seemingly never-ending lucky streak....</i><br/><br/>——————-<br/><br/>Kameron Brenner, self-proclaimed captain of the Dynamic light freighter<i>Lucky Hand</i>, sat with his boot heels on the control board, spaced just so so that they weren’t messing with any of the ship’s controls, whistling a Corellian marching tune. He knew only one other person in the ragtag bunch he called his crew would recognize the tune, as warbley as it was- Nykei, the former swoop racing champion, who was currently occupying the ancient freighter’s pilot seat.<br/><br/>His left hand shot out and flicked a switch on the panel beside him, opening the ship’s intercom. “Hey, hey, Laresen! How’s that hyperdrive holding up back there?” he drawled, a bit of a backwoods-y accent to his voice. “I hope your constant tinkerin’ has done it some good. Been a while since the ol’ rust bucket’s has a proper tune-up.” The sounds of someone behind him made the blond Corellian look over his shoulder, a grin crossing his handsome features. “Well, hey, Jiljoo. Still tidying up back there?”