Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Black Market Boogaloo (Nal Hutta)

Nal Hutta

It was a dirty, unkempt, nasty, muddy, swampy, smelly, and generally disgusting place to be. Unfortunately, it was also the only place to go when one wanted things that weren't normally available to the general public.

Reine had managed to slip onto the planet through a interplanetary transport and made it into the heart of the slums there. Here, everything had a price. You wanted spice? They sold it. Slaves? There was a vendor. Weapons? Mercenaries? Pleasurable company? Someone on the planet sold it. What could a world of inglorious markets offer to an amazonian, red-headed Miralukan?

Apparently ceaseless questions of price and catcalls almost everywhere she went. She'd resorted to buying a long, enveloping garb that covered her from floor to head from sight. It even covered her face entirely, though it smelled horrible. That said, she wasn't sure if that was the robe or the planet at this point. Either way, she didn't need to see with her eyes as she had none. The cloth didn't prevent her Force Sight from letting her view her surroundings, and so she walked with ease.

She was here for one reason and one reason only: ancient Sith artifacts. Fortunately, she'd come to the right place. If Nal Hutta didn't have someone who sold them, there were none in the galaxy who did.
 
Road after road, muddy street after muddy street. The place was dreary and murky, even without the gathering rain clouds. Reine picked her way down the street, avoiding the puddles and piles of refuse along the way. With Hutts and the Black Suns running the planet, you'd think there would be more cleanliness, or at least some form of waste control. Apparently, though, no one wanted to spend their credits on such a thing.

Reine kept moving, her tall frame visible, but all features and body type hidden under the robes she'd bought. She made her way south, then east. It was the rougher part of town, but it was where the more lucrative vendors resided. Here and there, pockets of thugs and petty criminals loitered. Some just looking tough for the sake of it, others eyeing possible victims. The Miralukan was hardly a target, but she kept an eye out anyways. Between her height and the mystery of just what lay under the robes, most wrote her off as "didn't want to find out" in regards to capabilities.

She entered a slightly narrower road, knowing she was close to her destination. She navigated a few more refuse piles and what appeared to be a dead body as she moved along the street. She could feel eyes on her as she moved. Whether they were simply curious or looking for trouble, she didn't know, but she was sure she'd find out sooner or later.

because he asked me to tag him and I forgot: [member="Ket Van Derveld"]
 

Ashin Varanin

Professional Enabler
[member="Reine Bisset"]

The Jedi had conquered Nar Shaddaa.

Ashin Varanin had not participated.

Granted, she'd been off in the fringes (heh) of the Unknown Regions, hiding under a false Dark Side aura, while trying to fortify her homeworlds against Halcyon and Apparine. She'd been off browbeating Grandmasters and Chancellors into cowardice to protect those who relied on her -- well, no, it was far enough in hindsight that she could fully admit the other reasons. She hadn't liked them, they hadn't liked her, and she hadn't felt like being pushed around. Galactic politics could get uncomfortably personal.

So the Jedi owned this planet's moon, Black Sun ruled the world proper. For obvious reasons, Jedi weren't well liked on Nal Hutta, but she hadn't dressed like a Jedi in close to twenty years, and had no intention of starting now. She wore pretty much what she'd worn on Korriban -- vest, pants, boots, as utilitarian as the words themselves. Blaster on her thigh, sabre inside the vest.

There was a rumor, a little bitty one, that someone down here had Sith artifacts for sale...
 

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