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Larrick Haldo here, giving you the news on what is happening where and how to do it with the least amount of legal ramifications possible. After my recent…stink on Nar Shaddaa, I hadn't planned on making an appearance there for a while until I was sure specific events had been forgotten. However, my Hutt-loving editor decided that I needed to return sooner than I had expected. I contemplated faking my own death for a few weeks and shacking up with a local Ithorian dance troupe until the whole thing had blown over. Alas, Ithorians don't make the best dancers, and after hearing what he wanted me to cover, I took my per diem, self prescribed medication, and got on the next shuttle to Nar Shaddaa.

I've never been a big sports fan. Never made much sense to me. This could be due to the fact I am not very athletic, or the fact that the sport I created was never really accepted in popular culture. (For whatever reason, ingesting a massive amount of hallucinogens and chasing school children with sticks in an effort to gather the various candy strapped to their chests is not considered very sporting. I retain I am simply ahead of my time.) However, while I am not a fan of most traditional sports, I am a very big fan of violence overall. Especially violence involving fire, blasters and explosions. And the event hosted by the aptly named "Blood Factory” appeared to be my kind of event. 

Now, a disclaimer: those who aren't accustomed to traversing the wilds that are the lower levels of Nar Shaddaa, be warned. Simply getting to this place is work enough, and if you aren't willing to shoot a nice little old lady in the face for looking at you funny, you may want to reconsider taking the trek down. Luckily I have a history of shooting at senior citizens, so I felt completely prepared to delve into the belly of Nar Shaddaa and see what was being digested.
Niatara A chortle of laughter followed by a "woohoo!" Filled the air of the cabin as she jumped up and clapped her han ...
Vaanthe
"Hm, not a bad story." Vaanthe appears rather pleased after reading the story. (Thanks for the coverage!) ...
Sonfac @ Port Nesh
 
Hello my galactic dregs, you scum of the universe. Larrick Haldo here, as always, except when I'm not. After an incident involving a less than legal Rodian girl and a small chemical fire in my hotel room, I left Nar Shaddaa to find myself a new story. Since my Lesai guy in Coronet had just gotten a fresh shipment from Zebitrope IV, I decided to make like a bantha and illegally board a space shuttle headed for Corellia. (For you kids at home, this example only works with a really small Bantha and a very inebriated crew.)

When I landed, Mr. Lesai was waiting for me just outside the departures area. For those of you who aren't galactic narcotic aficionados, Lesai grants humanoids the ability to go without sleep as long as you've got some. And as a reporter who deems sleep for the weak, and also do to a completely rational fear that Ugnaughts will steal my hair if I ever do sleep, Lesai is an important tool in my journalistic toolkit. Anywho, lesson over. Back to the fun stuff.

So after being duped into Mr. Lesai's buy three get one free deal, he informed me of a diner opening right there in the spaceport. Turns out some fella managed to open a diner on the rather war torn world of Corellia. It was also at this moment I realized I may not have eaten in the past four days. With both of these facts now known to me, I quickly threw my per diem at Mr. Lesai and made my way to the Port Nesh Grand Opening.
Bystran / Davrek Very nice report! Wanna check it out myself soon ...
Lefarge The place to go when you're tired of Nar Shaddaa, indeed. ...
Raspar Ojen I was on Larrick, I have a toon I use for said events!
 
 
Larrick Haldo here, in the flesh…I think. The rats who fund this holozine got me an all expense paid trip to Nar Shaddaa to get the nitty-gritty on the galaxy's most depraved moon. And trust me, when someone who makes their living writing for a holozine called the Galactic Scum Slicker calls something depraved, it most certainly is. By the time I touched down on the ol’ Smuggler’s Moon, I was twitching something fierce. Maybe it was a mix of excitement and fear, or the fact that I’ve been on Lesai for the past two weeks and haven’t slept a wink. It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes before the first spice dealer asked me to pick my poison; I felt like a kid in a candy store. Fifteen hundred of this rags' credits later I found myself in a speeder making my way towards the Yocola Tonka. I’d heard the opening of this joint was quite the scene, but unfortunately when you find yourself so strung out on Yarrock and you're boxing a young Hutt in his prime to get your pants back, you’ve got little time to do much else.

Where was I? Oh yeah, Yocola Tonka. So I walk into this place, one eye twitching and wondering if the Gamorrean at the door is really that shade of pink or if the Glitterstim had kicked in, when I remembered why I loved this old rock. The music can be heard well down the block, and the bass makes your hair feel like it might vibrate straight out of your skull. Dancers are everywhere; they’re giggling, half naked while they carry trays of drinks and robbing unconscious tourists blind. It nearly brought a tear to my still-twitching eye. As a perpetually intoxicated Reporter, I have a duty to stay on top of the news when I feel like it. With tensions between the Sith and Republic ever on the rise, a lot of places align with one side or the other. Not here. They got a neutrality rule here, a kind of "touch not lest ye be touched” deal, though that may have had something to do with one of the back rooms. Either way, the place is neutral. No fighting in the cantina or everyone gets blown sky high. If this place wasn’t exciting enough for you before, let me tell you the tension is palpable.

Halfway through my fourth Reactor Core, I heard some kind of racket behind me. I turned around and a wall of Sith was standing nearly nose to nose with a herd of Jedi. One of the Sith jokers apparently grabbed some kid or electrocuted him or bought him a drink; I don’t really know what happened, but both sides weren’t happy. One of the security guys working there popped in to try and calm them all down. The guy was either getting paid a ton or has a death wish; those Sith look like they could beat you to death for thinking near them. So this security guard, Omasi or something, was trying to get these Forcers not to murder one another right then and there. You had people who were watching, trying to place bets on who was going to win or how long it would take the whole place to go up in a hail of blaster fire… it was electric. My blood was on fire, my heart was beating through my chest, and I must have sweat a gallon.

This is Larrick Haldo saying, "Shut up, and get to the Yocola Tonka before this war turns it into a crater."
Raspar Ojen Thank you all, my goal is to have Larrick (who I have a toon IG of) hang out with different guilds/groups mingle with th ...
Zentoyo I love the style in which the article was written. It's unfortunate that as much as we try to let others know that Yo ...
Yallesh Hunter S. Thompson would be proud, very nice read!
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