<div class="floatright">(https://torcommunity.com/images/creation/togruta/montral11.jpg)</div>Music: Dough by Key Glock<br/><br/><br/>The slender buds were tucked into her ear from the moment she stepped onto the ship.  Music pounding into her ears silent from the general populous.  Yet her head rocked forward and back to the hidden rhythm and even her limbs undulated to the secret soundtrack of her life.  Typically the blue hue of her skin was highlighted by the glow of her datapad that was never far from her face and never out of reach.  That thin device constantly displaying cryptic messages and code.  Green lines scrolling near constantly to reflected by her eyes on a dark background beamed off her skin.  White lines intermingled with the blue of her flesh, stark circles so perfect that only nature might have made them.<br/><br/>Called to the cargo hold forced her to be closer to the others than she had been before.  The woman was not muscled or strong by any stretch.  Instead her body tended toward the lithe and sleek.  Perhaps in some circles she would be considered a model of beauty or a pleasant figure to behold. A dancer’s body some might even credit her with having but she did not move in those circles.  So her clothing did not really accent those features.  Instead the pants and shirt she wore were too big for her.  A tight belt kept the pants up while the shirt hung half-tucked from the edge of those pants.  Running shoes were tucked on her feet.  She easily found purchase on a cargo box, a heavy jacket sliding around her like a skirt might on other women.  That jacket looked as if it belonged to her father and she was a small child trying to fit into the fabric.<br/><br/>Still the datapad was at her fingertips and flashing quickly.  Earbuds lay at her shoulder with heavy bass sounding from the tiny devices. Eyes darted upward from the screen while the mission orders and parameters were given.  Her lower lip slipped between her sharp-edged teeth while she considered the intelligence.  Only when the others began to speak did she looks pensive and agitated.  The datapad was quickly turned off and set in her lap while she considered each.  The other two women she did not want to tangle with and the man looked dangerous enough.  Still this was not a pit fight.<br/><br/>“Yeah this is the montage part in the book.  Contraband is stuff we get in trouble for having.  How are we transmitting information back to you?”<br/>