NYETA CONA. NO WARRANTY.
UNCLAIMED TERRITORY
ATTAHOX
AKA THE BEST PLACE IN THE UNIVERSE
CIRCA 902 ABY
Out back behind a crowded market, Skeevi got up from a crouch and surveyed their handiwork with deep satisfaction. A Houk thug lay supine and unconscious with a fresh tattoo across his forehead. The tattoo was a pair of intertangled glyphs, one Frangawl and one Nagai. In combination they meant something like 'CURSE OF IMPOTENCE' but informally — really more of an equivalent to the venerable Jawaese idiom dooka ko loko. Skeevi holstered their tattoo gun and dusted off their hands.
"Slike I said, Shammy," they said over their shoulder to Demias Shamalain , who might or might not be their new pilot pending assorted unresolved shavvit. Skeevi pantomimed lekku with their flapping arms, shoulders hiked high. "Slike I toldja, ibana? That Twi'lek hkeek wurnt yer type no matter what she wiggled."
Around the corner, someone bawled a call re: fresh street meat. Skeevi brightened considerably.