Vhiran Crescent
Jun 24th, 2003, 09:51:35 PM
Vhiran Crescent was a known spice smuggler within a small ring. He had been known to do some jobs here and there, but nothing big. Atleast thats what everyone thought. Some people however, linked a large amount of operations with him. There were several known cases where the authorities could not catch the Smuggler, or even get a good look at him. However each story seemed similar. The Authorities had made a vivid description of his piloting capabilities which were extrodinary. And in each story, tale, whatever was told within the bars of Nar Shadaa, each had some sort of link to one person, a man without a name, and without a face - nothing but flying skills. Those who have flown with Vhiran have noticed his flying skills and recognized them within the stories that they had heard, if they had heard any. Vhiran was a known pilot, and a very good one at that. No one made the mistake of calling him a rookie.
Vhiran sat at a small table with three chairs, sipping a beer. He was waiting for some guests. He didn't know who they would be, but he knew someone would come. He was out of a ship, he had ditched his last one to throw off the authorities, sold it to some junkie for some extra credits. He didn't know what he was getting into. But it didn't matter anyway, he had stole it anyway and hadn't modified it to heavily.
He sighed, taking in a deep breath, watching the patrons converse with each other while they listened to the rodian band play into the night on a sub-concious level. The aurma was not too bad. The smell of fresh beer and old wines had drowned out the smell of the rotting flesh and trash beyond the sturdy walls. He sat in silence, watching around him for anyone who looked interested in him.
Vhiran sat at a small table with three chairs, sipping a beer. He was waiting for some guests. He didn't know who they would be, but he knew someone would come. He was out of a ship, he had ditched his last one to throw off the authorities, sold it to some junkie for some extra credits. He didn't know what he was getting into. But it didn't matter anyway, he had stole it anyway and hadn't modified it to heavily.
He sighed, taking in a deep breath, watching the patrons converse with each other while they listened to the rodian band play into the night on a sub-concious level. The aurma was not too bad. The smell of fresh beer and old wines had drowned out the smell of the rotting flesh and trash beyond the sturdy walls. He sat in silence, watching around him for anyone who looked interested in him.