Vendra Vane
Peacekeeper
PURGATORY, LLANIC
The Drain -- a literal hole in the ground. Well, in this case, a hole in the sea. Somehow, 130,000 souls lived comfortably, most ignorant of the reality that it's a few old and meager floodwalls that keep their little paradise dry instead of drowned.
The cramped settlement was little more than a shadowport. A place where pirates, smugglers, spies, mercenaries, and shady dealers met to conduct business free of oversight or regulation.
This was Purgatory.
Vendra landed a while ago, haggled her fee, and now sat legs up in a private booth at a quiet little dive called Ronnie's, far from the usual meeting spot, even for Purgatory. Droid bartenders and droid staff only made an unappealing pitch to even the drunkest masses, who wanted a little skin or at least a bartender who wasn't liable to glitch out and poison you; no, you'd have to pay for that service.
She was there to meet with someone. Who? Well, she didn't have that detail, not yet. See, jobs like this worked one way: you pay a broker, the broker finds an asset, and then the asset meets the client. Some credits--any currency, really--exchange hands.
That was the way of things, and it was that asset Vendra was here to meet. Though the truth was she herself had been hired to put on the job. Subcontracting at its finest. Not just for the corporations.
So, the Dark Jedi waited, with the lousiest liquor that might as well pass for starship fuel.
Vestra Tane
The Drain -- a literal hole in the ground. Well, in this case, a hole in the sea. Somehow, 130,000 souls lived comfortably, most ignorant of the reality that it's a few old and meager floodwalls that keep their little paradise dry instead of drowned.
The cramped settlement was little more than a shadowport. A place where pirates, smugglers, spies, mercenaries, and shady dealers met to conduct business free of oversight or regulation.
This was Purgatory.
Vendra landed a while ago, haggled her fee, and now sat legs up in a private booth at a quiet little dive called Ronnie's, far from the usual meeting spot, even for Purgatory. Droid bartenders and droid staff only made an unappealing pitch to even the drunkest masses, who wanted a little skin or at least a bartender who wasn't liable to glitch out and poison you; no, you'd have to pay for that service.
She was there to meet with someone. Who? Well, she didn't have that detail, not yet. See, jobs like this worked one way: you pay a broker, the broker finds an asset, and then the asset meets the client. Some credits--any currency, really--exchange hands.
That was the way of things, and it was that asset Vendra was here to meet. Though the truth was she herself had been hired to put on the job. Subcontracting at its finest. Not just for the corporations.
So, the Dark Jedi waited, with the lousiest liquor that might as well pass for starship fuel.
Vestra Tane
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