Following the unceremonious demise of her Sabre at the hands of an ex-insurgent turned common pirate, Sable found herself wanting for a new ship. New in this case being a relative term, as her personal finances were not on speaking terms with her desires. It was thus that the mercenary found herself taking a shuttle to the Freeport 6 auction office in hopes of finding an inexpensive secondhand vessel that would suit her needs.
While Kress Industrial was still the proverbial new kid on the block among Sirius' ship builders, word of their quality products had already spread far and wide, making rounds especially among the circles of freelancers, mercenaries, and bounty hunters. Several times before, Sable had considered purchasing one of the popular Kress craft, though the high cost and difficulty of maintenance due to the consistent lack of spare parts on the open market had turned her off each time.
So it was that, when a broker approached her with a datapad displaying a K13 Falchion - as made famous by the chart topping album Falchion! Falchion! - with a price so low that she assumed it had to be a typo, Sable perked up.
"She's been well-loved and taken good care of," the broker had told her. "Custom paint job, slight gold sheen. Glows brilliantly in the right light, like the sky at sunset." Sable was only vaguely familiar with the concept, having spent only a small fraction of her life on solid, planetary ground, though she did remember fondly the few occasions on which she had taken the time to watch Manhattan's sun slowly sink below the distant horizon.
When asked about the price, the broker had simply shrugged and answered, "The owner didn't say much, apart from associating some unpleasant memories with the ship."
Not wanting to look a cheap horse in the mouth and not being suitably superstitious to worry about the broker's vague explanation, Sable purchased the vessel.
By the next day, she was in love. As it turned out, Kress' marketing team was proven right by the many raving reviews the mercenary had been forced to listen to at bars across Sirius. With handling that could make any CTE fighter blush, a power distributor that would make a Series Z Sabre reconsider its design choices, and enough creature comforts to make even extended stays in the cockpit at least somewhat bearable, Sable was ecstatic. And then there was the custom paint job - a subtle gold shimmer that truly invoked a setting sun when flying in the right conditions.
She promptly christened the ship accordingly: the Sunset.
