((Heya Chad, Corliss asked Temrash a question a little while back x3))
The clouds above the bar streaked like pulled taffy as something large and well, nearly invisible, flew through them.
Whatever it was, it was large enough that it parked itself a bit away from the ship graveyard; there was simply no room amongst the jumble of parked ships and rusted, forgotten hulks of metal. The only evidence of its landing was a backwash of heated air which rustled the trees nearby. A few clods of dirt and grass were squashed by the ship's invisible landing gear.
The invisible Imperial Cruiser ship's hatchway opens and Myitt foregoes the ramp, sliding down the side and onto the ground. The ramp retracts, dejected, and she murmurs for the ship to close the exterior hatch.
Brushing her hands off, she surveys the jumble of machinery leading up to the bar. She makes her way through them, passing by Parker, Hunter, Zoshonel and the strange Huragok creature.
"Howdy," she says to them, pausing for a moment to watch what they're doing. She looks worn down, the big bruise on her face has turned greenish and better than it looks. Her torn black jacket has been replaced with something equally crappy, also black, but cleaner and less full of holes, and it still bulges out in her right arm, where the bandages are.
For once it appears she's showered and changed her clothes, this time the same army boots but with some blue jeans and a Led Zeppelin t-shirt underneath her coat, but it's hard to tell because her hands and a good portion of the jeans and shirt are covered in dried stains of viscous, black grease. She smells nicely of pine sol and a mechanic shop.
Some distance away she notices Ossanlin and Aliciania talking outside the bar, and she waves to them frantically before turning abruptly to Parker and crew.
"What's going on?" she asks, gingerly rolling up her sleeves. "Target practice?"
