You hear the screeching chorus of a dozen or swoops approaching quickly in the blueish twilight, and you see their headlights first.
Swoops begin streaming from between ruined buildings and dim alleys around you, their headlights cutting through the hazy blue twilight. The first ones stop within shouting distance but keep their engines idling while more and more slip through the cracks around you. The bikes cruise over the gaps in the terrain without heed. This is a rough crowd, not a regular security force – but they all have dark, shiny jackets, and each one has an insignia of a green viper.
A slender, darkly clad biker in a smooth enclosed black helmet with metal trim cruises in at last. The biker’s helmet retracts, revealing a hard-looking human woman who is clearly a veteran of many battles. You see numerous scars across her sneering mouth and neck. Her spiky black hair matches the dark armored clothing she wears. She is armed with a heavy blaster.
“That’s a pretty looking ship you’ve got back there. What’s her name?”
“You know, you set your pretty little ship down in Viper territory. Do you have enough credits to pay for a landing permit? It’s a thousand credits
“Maybe you misunderstood. It’s a thousand credits EACH, to land in this dump.
Consider it insurance – a security fee to ensure your pretty little ship is kept safe. You’re lucky – you landed on the nice side of town.”