Smuggler Stories

Zayne's Perspective: The rolling hills of Nabooty shimmered beneath a twilight sky, the air heavy with the scent of blooming starpetals and the distant murmur of waterfalls. Zayne Ryde adjusted the silken tunic he’d donned for the gala at Lord Varnis’s lake house, a sprawling estate of marble and glass that glowed like a beacon of decadence against the lush landscape. His blaster was tucked beneath the fabric, a silent pr...