The cash was heavy in the handbag Staci carried from the Hutt back-office. It’s weight gently rocking against her Telec trousers and loose fitting jacket.
The streets felt safer than the bright interior where Mako was no doubt incinerating Quinn’s corpse.
She had been somewhat surprised at how much anger half the sentients in the room held for Quinn. Sure, he had done them some wrong, and sure he even left some bodies on the road to what he called success, but they had some long fired hate in their souls.
Maybe it was only natural to take their revenge on a corpse that couldn’t feel the pain.
She rounded a corner and stepped into a darkened hangar. It was in the Corellian sector, and it was large, dingy and old.