Regional Commander
The sleek silhouette of a Sheathipede-class transport shuttle stood out prominently against the bustling backdrop of Denon as it touched down on one of the numerous landing platforms.
The presence of the Trade Federation was an unusual occurrence, given that the planet was presently under the control of the Corporate Authorities of Denon, a formidable coalition of business leaders and merchants who held firm in spite of the actions of Darkwire - a terrorist organization to some and to others a group of freedom fighters.
Nonetheless the civil war between them had ended with a victory for the Corporate Powers which had prompted, Shoom Gunray to begin negotiations with one of the smaller corporations at the table. He had spent countless hours preparing for the meeting, mentally going over every single detail in order to ensure a proper agreement was made.
As he stepped off the ship, the toxic air enveloped the landing platform, a stark contrast to the sterile environment of the ship. Gunray adjusted his collar as eyes scanned the area for signs of trouble.
"Master Gunray, the contact is waiting for you at the designated location," one of the aides whispered beside him, a hint of urgency in his tone.
"Good," Gunray replied, with a bulbous tone. "Let us not waste time. The sooner we conclude this meeting, the sooner we can solidify our interests here."
Amidst the vibrant chaos of Denon's streets, they made their way to an unremarkable cantina situated between imposing skyscrapers. The entrance exuded a dim allure, with the distant sounds of altercations and the clatter of cups hinting at the establishment's clientele.
Gunray paused briefly to gather his thoughts before entering, finding the figure sitting in a shadowy corner booth—a tall, cloaked individual who seemed as out of place in the cantina's dim light.
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