Historian
Elom was a cold, desert world, found in the remote regions of Wild Space, in an independent sector between Mandalorian and Sith territories.
It was also a major interest to the Hydian-Wyl Mining Company, which effectively ruled this area of space without much in the way of opposition. The proud yet pragmatic ruling council of the Elomin people had cut deals with the mining company, whose efforts largely oppress the subterranean eponymous species, and all in exchange for some trade. Politics as usual, and nothing Anet came to this world for.
No, she made a deal of her own with the company. Somewhere, out here among these worlds, was the potential to find lost relics and knowledge of the old Sith Empire. Things may have been hidden for thousands upon thousands of years, since the earliest days of the Republic.
She was at the world's only spaceport. A facility located on land, sold and chartered by Hydian-Wyl, just outside the indigenous surface dwellers' capital. It was about what one would expect from a backwater port. Most of the facilities were dedicated to processing and shipping, with worker housing after that, and then a few amenities. You had your cantina, your general store, your vehicle and droid shops, and some other local markets.
The scholar wandered the stalls, in the mood to benefit from what little agriculture made its way into the spaceport, as she gathered fixings for lunch. Around her shoulder was a strap that held a heavy bag aloft, with visible surveying equipment sticking out. As she inspected some native fruit, a Devaronian youth sprinted past and swiped a piece of equipment from her bag. He turned a corner just as quickly as it all happened.
Anet, frustrated, shouted for him to wait and tried to hurry after. Difficult considering the remaining equipment that weighed heavily.
"Wait, stop! I need that!"
Colette
It was also a major interest to the Hydian-Wyl Mining Company, which effectively ruled this area of space without much in the way of opposition. The proud yet pragmatic ruling council of the Elomin people had cut deals with the mining company, whose efforts largely oppress the subterranean eponymous species, and all in exchange for some trade. Politics as usual, and nothing Anet came to this world for.
No, she made a deal of her own with the company. Somewhere, out here among these worlds, was the potential to find lost relics and knowledge of the old Sith Empire. Things may have been hidden for thousands upon thousands of years, since the earliest days of the Republic.
She was at the world's only spaceport. A facility located on land, sold and chartered by Hydian-Wyl, just outside the indigenous surface dwellers' capital. It was about what one would expect from a backwater port. Most of the facilities were dedicated to processing and shipping, with worker housing after that, and then a few amenities. You had your cantina, your general store, your vehicle and droid shops, and some other local markets.
The scholar wandered the stalls, in the mood to benefit from what little agriculture made its way into the spaceport, as she gathered fixings for lunch. Around her shoulder was a strap that held a heavy bag aloft, with visible surveying equipment sticking out. As she inspected some native fruit, a Devaronian youth sprinted past and swiped a piece of equipment from her bag. He turned a corner just as quickly as it all happened.
Anet, frustrated, shouted for him to wait and tried to hurry after. Difficult considering the remaining equipment that weighed heavily.
"Wait, stop! I need that!"
Colette
