Nothing on Abhean
The Midrim isn’t what it used to be. Before the GALACTIC EMPIRE, a man could sell his death-sticks wherever he pleased. But now, the Imperials try to run the black market as well as everything else. They are everywhere, like a giant Hutt that no one can get out of debt from.
Abhean is no exception. Lord Felmas, CEO of Abhean Shipyards pays his dues by building supply ships for the EMPIRE and acting as Planetary Governor. He encourages everyone to mind their own business and keep their guns under the table. You never know who is working for them.
Its a muddy world on Abhean and the local underground is bustling with the gems of the Perlimian Trade Route. In the city of Shaldor, four people, all with terrible secrets, find themselves at the Electric Acklay Cantina one night for a quiet evening of gambling. . .