Snippet #2484656

"Toras, can you leave us both for a few minutes? We have some things to discuss in private," Soran told the Twi'lek, who looked confused but left without saying a word. "And please don't stand outside the door and listen. I'll know if you do."

The door was closed behind him, and Soran could see the alien move away from the door through the wall and down the corridor. It looked like they would have their privacy for a time.

"Something's troubling you, Master. You've barely said a word since we arrived and something about these case files seems to have you deep in thought. Is it the Black Sun? You have history of them?"

Of course, he didn't mention his own history with the Syndicate. They had, after all, been responsible for the raids on his childhood village and the neverending conflict between the criminal enterprise on one side and the local villagers and a Clan of Mandalorians on the other, all over a bit of scrap metal. Tel'kar surely knew about all that, though.

"I'm not sure where we should begin our investigation. The entire Undercity is... Pained. It suffers and groans under the weight of poverty and criminality. Death, corruption, thievery and lust is all I can sense down there. I suppose we have two choices: we either find them the hard way, or we go to the place where the pain is strongest and see if being closer reveals more to us."