<div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 26px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ffffff"><b>From Rocks to Riches</b></span></span><br/>
<b><span style="font-size: 22px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ffffff">A <i>Star Wars</i> Story</span></span></b></span><br/>
<b><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(255, 255, 77)"><span style="font-size: 18px"><br/>
Unrest is beginning to build in the galaxy. An Empire with seemingly unlimited reach and power is flexing its steady grip over countless worlds. Its might is being demonstrated from their forces occupying worlds' markets, and individual members working their way into the criminal underworld.<br/>
<br/>
However, even the dimmest lights spring forth within the dark.<br/>
</span></span><br/>
<span style="font-size: 18px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(255, 255, 77)">Using his last </span></span></b><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ffff4d"><span style="font-size: 18px"><b>remaining</b></span></span><b><span style="font-size: 18px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(255, 255, 77)"> connections to the now-dissolved Imperial Senate, a corrupt former infantryman and now-retired officer is planning on making a secret deal with a scrapper, who's looking to get away with more than the money she was given…</span><br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bfbfbf"><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</span></span></b>​</div><b><span style="font-size: 18px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bfbfbf">The elder Imperial officer sighed with relief, his lungs wheezing as to reflect his age. They were almost there. It was about the size of a small planetoid, floating around in formation with the rest of the lot, dragged in line with some of the remaining largest hunks of rubble from the First Death Star's destruction of Alderaan that had formed a long, belt-like formation in space. This particular hunk of former planet piece--now an asteroid--had been mined out quickly before being turned into a rather strange live-in work area; once a popular refueling station for smugglers, the hollowed-out asteroid had now been transformed into a functional stop-in depot large enough to hold an Imperial transport shuttle.<br/>
<br/>
The older gent hummed as he steered the ship along, hoping that the storage blocks in the ship behind where he was sitting were holding the Imperial credits he was lugging along rather safely. The poor sap was hoping to earn quite a pretty penny from this ship's dismantling…but he never knew he was, in actuality, walking right into a trap.<br/>
<br/>
Hearing some shifting, his hand snapped to the pistol in its rest on his left hip, his eyes moving to the right to the figure in the seat next to him. </span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#0080ff">"You don't move 'til I say you move,"</span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bfbfbf"> he sneered at the poor woman.</span></span></b>