Nal Hutta's Moon -- Nar Shaddaa
Undercity
Undercity
Cesspit. God(s) forsaken. Armpit of the galaxy. Hell hole. All appropriate, but unofficial titles of Nar Shaddaa. It was a place of refuge for spice merchants, bounty hunters and all other scums of the galaxy from A-Z.
Anyone looking to keep their eyes from looking down the barrel of a blaster, really.
Jhéne was likely one of those avoiding being hunted. She didn't know, really but her assumption was likely validated through years of actions void of morals. She followed the credits.
Why?
Because credits lead to the substances she needed. Death sticks. She was reliant on the hallucinogens since her headaches began acting up three years ago. That being said, she had no idea how many years of her life she had shaved off.
Nor did she care. Jhéne had really no purpose to serve other than living from day to day.
Slowly, she ran her tongue across her lips to relieve the sweet coating of deathstick residue. Her dark eyes temporarily glazed over, and the dim lighting of the hole-in-the-wall cantina suddenly electrified. It was a temporary sensation, since she had only taken a mild dosage in her drink to subside the light pounding in her head. Heavy as it was, she rested her chin against her palm and leaned into a thick sip of corellian ale. A drink with a familiar and somewhat comforting taste, even better with her own spicing.
Corellia was home, despite the odds.
Still semi-lucid, the dark skinned woman looked up from her isolated booth and around the cantina, summing up each of its patrons.
Boring. (Even with the added illusions).
Interested in either Fel Empire or Black Sun. Just need a little info.
@[member="Jared Starchaser"] | @[member="Davik Tren"] | @[member="Ronin Fel"]
@[member="Jared Starchaser"] | @[member="Davik Tren"] | @[member="Ronin Fel"]