Nar Shaddaa knows neither night nor day. Locked into a frenzied fever of colourful lights that cast long enough shadows for the lowlives to thrive in, it is the breeding burrow of people who are just as multilayered as the Smuggler’s Moon itself.
Ayy was standing in front of the entrance to her favourite cantina, or “parallel world” as she liked to jokingly call it. Her absent-minded gaze was fixated on the walls that encompassed the place, a myriad brilliant speckles dancing frantically across the dark surface.
The Twi’lek felt fidgety. She shifted her weight and massaged the knuckles of her fingers, growing increasingly uneasy as the minutes slogged along, but the person she was waiting for didn’t show up. The uneasy feeling intensified as she was jolted out of her contemplations, realizing that a stranger was standing in front of her. For how long had he been there already?
“Nar Shaddaa is…
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