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Sitting in the pilot seat looking out the transparisteel viewport at the swirling lines of hyperspace, Xohhar absentmindedly leaned forward to switch off the alarm beeping that they would exiting hyperspace soon only to blink when nothing happened and turned to find the pinned sleeve of his coat...

Xohhar paced back and forth across the barren living space of his bolthole in the Lower Industrial Sector, something he'd been doing since waking up the previous afternoon with the cloying taste and scent of Bacta overwhelming his senses. Once an office perched above the warehouse and landing...