Quekko's Choice Ship Emporium
Springheel is an unexceptional world. Sparsely populated, remote and craggy, not missed much when the Planeshift destabilized hyperroutes across the galaxy. Easy to forget. The dominant colours are reddish-brown and brownish-red. The dominant drink is spiced lum and the dominant entertainment is shockboxing or possibly competitive ranked ship theft. A good place for eyes in the back of your head, and for cybernetic docs who can make it happen.
An unexceptional world until last week, when Otherspace ripped open just long enough to deposit a planet-sized knot of concentrated void stone with zero orbital velocity, which promptly fell into the sun and disintegrated.
The Force cannot be used on Springheel. The Force cannot be used anywhere in the system. The tainted sun casts a weird maroon light, and in that light, no means of circumventing, oh, void stone, ysalamiri, anything like that — no means of circumventing it works. Not a single artifact or cunning creation. The Force, the magic, is out of the question.
Here and almost nowhere else, ninety-nine point nine percent of the galaxy can be free. No supernatural souls watching them, twisting them, choking them, commanding them. The strongest Jedi or Sith in the galaxy is no more than a person. Some have been spotted trying out umbrellas.
Business is very, very good.
Quekko's Choice Ship Emporium, Springheel Lot — a beautiful lot, bursting with the finest pre-owned vehicles and vessels. For all his experience with the Force, or because of it, Jerec moved among said finest vessels and prospective clients with a weight off his neckhump, whistling out both sides of his neck. He sensed — visually! Auditorially! Empathetically! Just not supernaturally — that everyone around, both clients and Ithorians, shared his persistent good mood. And tonight there'd be barbecue.
An unexceptional world until last week, when Otherspace ripped open just long enough to deposit a planet-sized knot of concentrated void stone with zero orbital velocity, which promptly fell into the sun and disintegrated.
The Force cannot be used on Springheel. The Force cannot be used anywhere in the system. The tainted sun casts a weird maroon light, and in that light, no means of circumventing, oh, void stone, ysalamiri, anything like that — no means of circumventing it works. Not a single artifact or cunning creation. The Force, the magic, is out of the question.
Here and almost nowhere else, ninety-nine point nine percent of the galaxy can be free. No supernatural souls watching them, twisting them, choking them, commanding them. The strongest Jedi or Sith in the galaxy is no more than a person. Some have been spotted trying out umbrellas.
Business is very, very good.
Quekko's Choice Ship Emporium, Springheel Lot — a beautiful lot, bursting with the finest pre-owned vehicles and vessels. For all his experience with the Force, or because of it, Jerec moved among said finest vessels and prospective clients with a weight off his neckhump, whistling out both sides of his neck. He sensed — visually! Auditorially! Empathetically! Just not supernaturally — that everyone around, both clients and Ithorians, shared his persistent good mood. And tonight there'd be barbecue.
