Dismal overcast permeated the maroon night sky over Nar Shaddaa, leaving scarcely a star in sight. Known colloquially as the Smuggler's Moon, it was the largest natural satellite of the planet Nal Hutta. It owed its murky atmosphere to the rampant pollution generated by the technoscape below. The all-encompassing city billowed thick smoke from it's factories and vehicles that trailed into the skies above where it lingered, enabling the formation of unnatural cloud cover. Dense fog blanketed the enormous urban sprawl, penetrated only by the tallest skyscrapers, shrouding everything else within its reach. Among the immense grid of permacrete and durasteel spires that dominated the surface, there stood a thirty-story trihex prism of alloy and glass. The bronze-colored exterior walls that once gleamed in the light had aged over the course of nearly a century, leaving them with a dull matte finish. The external frame bolstered three permacrete beams aligned vertically along each face from top to bottom. Their tips were fixed to a horizontal trihex beam that ran around the circumference of the structure's apex. Massive identical signs were attached to highest point of every third face. Lit up in bright neon, they glowed with the words "Azura Casino".
On the circular marble steps of the main entrance, Jerrico and his new friend Bruma were taking their leave following his big win on the jubilee wheel. The prize was 100,000 credits loaded onto a check-cartridge, ready to be withdrawn in at the winner's convenience.
Jerrico Lurch, twenty-seven years in age, was human male of brown complexion. He had close-cropped black hair, monolid hazel eyes, and a wiry muscular build. He sported a white double-breasted overcoat with a matching undershirt, black trousers, and polished black shoes.
"You actually did it. That was unreal," Bruma remarked in awe.
Bruma Decalvo, twenty-one years in age, was a zabrak female of pale complexion. She had long red hair, yellow eyes, and a lean physique. Clad in a black leather dress, she wore long fingerless gloves on her forearms and a black and red sash embroidered with ancient glyphs around her waist.
The two met earlier that evening at the casino cantina. When he first approached her, all swagger and confidence, he boasted that he could win any game in the room. But Bruma was not convinced, the claim sounded ludacris. Then Jerrico proposed a wager. If she picked a game for him to play, and he won at it, he would get to spend the night with her at his penthouse suite. Amused by his brazen attitude, she humoured him by accepting the wager. Sure enough, Jerrico came out the victor, just as he said he would. Winning thousands of credits suddenly made him very attractive in her eyes, and so she eagerly held up her end of the deal, lending him her company.
"I told you, babe. I'm the luckiest man on Nar Shaddaa" he proclaimed in a cocky manner.
Better yet, I'm about to get even luckier. He thought to himself, looking Bruma up and down.
A row of vestigial horns white as bone formed a crown around her the top of her head. Black tattoos of curving arcs and small diamonds symmetrically marked each side of her angelic visage. Her well-tailored dress wrapped tightly around her slender, curvaceous figure, stirring lascivious excitement in Jerrico.
"You certainly are," she cooed amorously.
Such desires were often indulged with reckless abandon on Nar Shaddaa. Ever since its foundation, the moon had been a haven for those seeking to partake all manner of excess. It was hotbed of corruption, regulated by the crime lords of the Hutt Clan, frequented by smugglers, bounty hunters, gangsters, and many other unsavory characters. Separated from the galactic core by a great distance, Nar Shaddaa's position on the edge of the mid-rim was beyond the reach of the newly-reorganized Galactic Empire. The establishment of the New Order demanded that the government focus it attention inward. Consequently, the moon was now even more lawless than it was during the reign of Galactic Republic, much to the satisfaction Nar Shaddaa's career criminals and their clients.
Relying on a private taxi service for transport, Jerrico summoned a luxury airspeeder through his hand held commlink. He and Bruma strolled over to the pick-up zone on the casino's border were their driver was waiting for them. He knocked on his window, and the driver wound it down.
"Mr Lurch?" He asked, examining Jerrico.
"The one and only," he answered proudly.
The driver flicked a switch on airspeeder's console, unlocking the doors. In chivalrous fashion, Jerrico opened the back-passenger door for Bruma. She stepped inside and he followed behind her.
"Where to then, sir?" The driver asked.
"The Cynthion Hotel, and be quick about it," Jerrico instructed.
The driver keyed in the address into the console's navigation computer.
"The cost of your journey is 110 credits. Cash or card?," he inquired.
"Nah," Jerrico protested casually.
Making a slight motion with his hand at his side he added,
"Your not gonna charge us for the lift."
The driver's eyes started to narrow at his arrogant customer, but then stopped half-way and went calm again. His voice took on a sudden monotone.
"I'm...not gonna charge you for the lift," he uttered obediently.
Jerrico smiled, satisfied with the response.
"My my," she remarked. "So persuasive."
"I have a gift," he bragged with a smirk.
His statement carried more truth than he let on.
With a deep reverberating hum, the airspeeder's repulsorlift carried the vehicle high into the nearest skylane.
Buzzing throughout the upper levels of the city, both private and commercial repulsorcrafts wove their way between buildings, moving in orderly lines like an insect colony.
Leaning back in his seat, Jerrico stretched his left arm over his head, and put it around Bruma's shoulder.
"So," he began. "What does pretty thing like you do day-to-day?"
She met his lecherous gaze with one of her own.
"I'm a pleasure-seeker," she answered. "My inheritance covers my living expenses, with plenty left over to indulge in the finer things the galaxy has to offer."
She squinted slightly, examining his features and body language.
"And what is it you do when you're not winning big at casinos?" She asked.
"I'm a freelance courier," he replied. "I transport heavy freight across the districts."
Bruma imagined what lean musculature might be wrapped under Jerrico's fine formal wear, certain that he too was imagining what laid beneath her's.
"I like man who knows how to handle precious goods. That sort of labor must take real strength."
"Sure does. I'm even stronger than I look y'know."
"Is that so? I'll have to see this for myself."
"You won't have to wait long," he assured her, leaning in a little closer.
"Good for me," she gushed, stifling a giggle.