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THE CASTLE SANGunder the soft caress of a gentle breeze, the silent stone monolith standing resolutely despite the millennia of ice that encrusted it's attenuated pyres. At some point the planet it's stood upon had been a refuge of rain-drenched valleys and forests, but after the death of its nearest sun the planet was reduced to an abandoned tundra, any remnant of its former occupancy forgotten amongst the snow.
Maybe that was why the gangsters who called themselves the Wildling's had chosen the barren planet to shelter on, for it's sheer misery. Typically, this wasteland was an unorthodox refuge, and they relied on the fact that nobody cared enough to follow them this deep into the outer rim. But they'd forgotten to account for one variable; Ahmonti Arcas wasn't nobody.
The doors to the castle throne room slammed open with an overzealous thud, a gale of cold wind sweeping down across the stone floors. Instantly, one hundred pairs of eyes swept to the entrance, their attention captured by the cloaked intruder who now so eloquently stood before them. The Wildling's were every bit as intimidating as she'd imagined, their scarred bodies hunched over pitchers of crudely brewed alcohol, illegally modified blaster's strapped to every spare inch of their patch-work armour. But if she was intimidated at all by their gnarled exterior, she put on an excellent show of hiding it.
Gently, the Jedi apprentice pulled back the hood of her cloak, letting her dark hair fall across her shoulders. "I'm here to speak with Mardos," her voice carried across the room like a pitching bell. "He has something that doesn't belong to him."
The crowd stirred and shifted in front of her like a tidal sea as a lone figure dared to approach the woman who stood in front of them. The new stranger was a gnarled and scarred twi'lek woman who went by the name Rhea, with a reputation as one of the most notorious guns for hire inside the mid rim. At some point in her life Rhea might have been considered beautiful, but an accident had long since since left half of her features marred into an unrecognisable knot of skin and scar tissue, the end of her lekku tapering into a premature end by her shoulder. Ahmonti knew her by reputation alone.
