Private The Squib Who Sold The World

[Under Foot]

D E N O N
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The sign read Squib Reclamation and Waste Management.

If there was a garden spot on Denon, this wasn't it. District Three, Moonfall as it was known, was a lifeless pit. Almost literally. A large, mined out crater in the planet's surface was the most prominent feature of the region. Overmining had led to the exhaustion of the planet's resources, and manufacturing moved closer to the spaceport for the materials that were being imported to the planet. As a result, most of the factories in this area were now rotting from decades of disuse. The structures weren't even sound enough to be used as hideouts or bolt-holes, so gang activity had dwindled.

The landfill was practically the last business left still operating in the district, but there were few places where a landfill had the ability to expand operations. The disrepair and neglect facing District Three had allowed the Squib to open up an entirely new cell!

A new cell!

That was unheard of. His father had never even opened a new cell. The last time a new cell had been opened was when his grandfather had done so. A brand new expansion, just waiting for trash to start to fill the confines of the cell in a tower of glorious garbage. A myriad of mysteries, packed somewhere between discarded underwear and molding bologna.

To celebrate, Under Foot was taking apart a speeder bike. Someone had dumped it off a week or so ago. It was probably twenty years old. At that age, parts were hard to come by and nothing that was on the shelf today was likely to fit. So it was no surprise that someone would choose to junk it.

The Squib had already drained out the engine lubricant and set the power core aside for recycling. At the moment, he was disassembling the air brake.

Those had application in air speeders as well as pod racers or swoop bikes. So if he could polish these up and get them working, then they'd probably cover the costs and fees of disposing of the speeder with some credits to spare.

A win-win if ever a Squib saw one!

Plus, he never knew what Denon was going to bring through his door. Someone looking for a pivar spinner. Focusing lens for a lightfoil? Lint trap for a 844 model vacuum droid?

When you ran a junkyard, the sky was often the limit. And then only because the Corporate Authorities put a cap on how high he could stack the trash.

Hilal Vizsla​

 

[Hilal Vizsla]

Current Outfit

Another long day of shopping.

Hilal chewed on a chocolate bar while she was walking through the streets of Denon. She had a big pay day working contracts for the Hutt Space Consortium. So far in Hilal's Bounty Hunting career, the Hutts were the only people that offered consistent contracts something that Hilal was very grateful for. It was the usual kill any targets that would be a threat to their power but so far they were just low level thugs. The worst people Hilal fought were a group Twileaks who attempted to poison a water filtration system. At least all of the fights kept Hilal combat skills sharp and well paid but she was itching for a more challenging target.

Oh well, at least she earned a lot credits. Hilal liked spoiling herself with clothes, perfume and other beauty products but she really needed to start thinking of expanding her shop. Maybe try to start more businesses? Hilal looked up and saw a junkyard ahead: Squib Reclamation and Waste Management. "Chit," Hilal chuckled. "It's as if the Gods has blessed me with a business opportunity."

Curiosity grew, Hilal wondered what kind of parts the owner had. She got lucky when she stumbled onto an abandoned junkyard back at Kresti. It was full of decent parts that she could sell and start making a living on the streets. Given that this was Denon, she imagined that the junk would be of better quality. "Okay maybe not better at all," Hilal grumbled. "But still people on Denon throw away good stuff."

The young woman entered the shop, her bags swaying from side to side looking around. "Is anyone here?" she asked.

Under Foot

 

[Under Foot]

Goggles down over his eyes, the Squib was seated on the floor.

A welding torch in one hand and a litany of droid parts scattered around, it was impossible to tell from the state of (dis)repair just what the tinkerer was currently occupied with. Was he fixing a droid? Disassembling a droid? Cobbling something entirely new together?

Anyone's guess at this juncture.

"Is anyone here?"

A pair of triangular ears shot up over the top of the counter. Like radar, they seemed to shift until they'd keyed in on the speaker's location. Then, pushing the goggles up on his head, the round, furry head followed shortly after. "Welcome to Squib Reclamation!" the grease-marked Squib chimed brightly.

Coming out from behind the counter, the Squib was wiping his hands on the front of the leather apron he wore. "We have a special today on duplex circuits," he offered, gazing up at this customer, he elaborated, "Buy two, get two free. Any two duplex circuits, get two free."

Did she look like someone in the market for deflector shield parts?

Maybe not, but it was hard to say. Maybe she wanted weapons? Hyperdrives?

A good deal on a caf dispenser?

Hilal Vizsla​