She was up and moving long before the arriving ship’s metal touched the ground, leaving behind a mess of tarps and empty noodle packages stuffed into a corner of her shelter-pipe. 

Watching the aircraft break clouds overhead after such a long stretch of waiting felt like hope again as she slid nimbly down her planned escape route, tempering the rising bubble of relief and elation in her chest. Best not to get ahead of herself. She hadn’t even seen the thing up close yet, nothing to be relieved about until she was hidden inside. 
If she could even get inside. Personal starships and smaller freighters were tougher to get into than the huge star liners or refugee transports. The bigger they flew, the more space to go unnoticed. Run-of-the-mill spacers were either paranoid with great security, or stupidly overconfident with none. 
Hopefully, this crew was the latter. Guess she’d find out soon enough.

Still. It was a chance off this rock. That alone felt good enough.

Adjusting the black mask over the lower half of her face, Eryn hastily stuffed her dark greasy hair into her hood and pulled it up over her head, sticking to the shadows as she looked for her opening to join the sparse flow of beings along the main causeway. A handful of them were armed to the teeth, probably looking more intimidating than they actually were. Much like her old crew, actually. Overconfident and focused on personal glory. ‘Gotta look the part’ kind of people. One or two were wearing long necklaces with what looked like a giant tooth at the end. 
The same kind of tooth she’d seen buried in the captain’s face as the rest of [i]‘The Wyvern’s[/i] crew scattered in every direction.
Eryn curled her lip in mild disgust at the amulets. Far too clean and way too white to be something they’d actually ripped from the skull of the creatures prowling outside the city limits. Probably bought them in souvenir shops or paid for them from crafters. 

She took a moment to glance at the small datapad she’d swiped from a bar patron days ago, scrolling past various galaxy-wide bounty postings to the more local information available to all. And there it was, right at the top. 
[b]Wanted: Dead. Credits for [i]intact[/i] creature heads. Make money protecting the colony! Prices negotiable based on size of head. [Active][/b]

The whole reason ‘[i]The Wyvern[/i]’ had landed here in the first place. Crowing about how it would be easy money, how they could taste the credit chits already, ‘we’ll make this colony worship us by the end of the day’, etc.
Karkin’ dumb lot o’ trash. But, trash was easy to fool, and easy to control if you knew how. No one bothered her after she dismembered the Mon Calamari galley ‘cook’ who’d attempted to throw hands after accusing her of stealing ‘more food than she was worth’. She displayed random bits of him outside the small corner of the cargo bay she’d claimed as her own, and never walked the ship without both weapons drawn. 
Certainly didn’t make her popular, but Eryn wasn’t there for buddies and comradery. 

She tucked the screen back into the small pack on her back, eying the passing armed ‘bigwigs’ as they clinked and clattered past her, bristling with the same measure of cocky attitude that had seen [i]‘The Wyvern’[/i] crew to their deaths. 
Idiots.
She joined them, pulling smoothly from the shadows and blending unnoticed into the lineup, matching their stride and their attitude. 
See? Easy to fool.

Her hunch was right. They were headed towards the exit, and by the looks of the groups they were joining up with, they were there to hunt.
If she could tail them safely, they’d make fantastic bait for what lay outside the city, and with the beasts distracted by such a large party, she’d have a chance at making it to that ship without too much risk.
Hopefully.
Maybe.
It was plan-as-you-go, fly by the seat of your pants for now.