<div class="floatright">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/32/66/c5/3266c521e7517760de09ab0d9ba3ab85.jpg)</div>Darbra Galehea was at her wits end.  She’d been on Coruscant for one hundred and eighty seven days, three hours and twenty two minutes.  Give or take a few seconds.  Over half a year.  She’d grown to loath the planet.  From it’s dirty, poor bottom to the shining, pristine glory of the upper crust it was just as bad as any other world she’d ever been on.  The biggest difference was that she couldn’t seem to get off the damn planet.  She’d been trying for weeks to no avail.  The transport she’d originally been told to take had been quarantined upon arrival. What kind of trader managed to pick up something as dangerous as the Bandonian Plague?  Idiots.<br/><br/>To make matters worse, her line of communication to her superiors had been severed, but cut off as she was she had no idea what had happened.  All of the imperial agents she knew about just seemed to have come up missing and she was pretty damn certain that she was going to be next.  She had to get off the planet, and with no other avenue open to her that meant she was left with a list of less than trustworthy traders.  She was down to the last three on her list.<br/><br/>Sethcor Traven.  A name she’d been given of a trader who might be willing to offer transport without questions.  For the right price.  Now all she had to do was find the bastard. Rumor had it that he was waiting for cargo to be loaded at a bar, which wouldn’t have normally been much help but she happened to know the bar in question.  She’d killed a man there once.  Not that she’d left any evidence of the body behind.<br/><br/>She straightened her tunic, a plain dark gray number that was nice enough for the level of the city she found herself on, but nondescript enough to keep her from being memorable.  With her dark brown hair and equally brown eyes she could have been any other human female, of which there were a number in the bar.  A quick glance at the grainy picture on her data pad was the only confirmation she needed that she’d found the man in question.<br/><br/>She crossed the bar, which wasn’t too crowded in the middle of the day, and took a seat opposite the man without being invited.  “Are you looking to make a few extra credits, Captain Traven?”