Vrovun tapped his fingers on the table whilst taking another sip from the glass of Merezane Gold in his other hand. He could hear the crowd cheering in the other room. No doubt another contender had just met a brutal death in the fighting pits of the Iron Hive.
Life was looking good since he’d started working for Grexi. The job was simple; do whatever Grexi asked. So far that had been pretty straightforward stuff, collecting debts, threatening people. Nothing he hadn’t done hundreds of times before.
He had Karl to thank for it of course. If he and his friends hadn’t shown up when they did Vrovun would still be trying to earn a living on the streets. Having said that, Anida, his predecessor, would probably still be alive.
Last time he saw Karl had been a few years ago back on Alderaan. It’d been good to run into him again. He had his father’s fighting spirit, as a Zabrak Vrovun could respect that. He knew Karl would die fighting for what he believed in.
It was just a matter of time until he saw them again. An infochant like Grexi was going to be too valuable to the Rebel Alliance. They’d be back this way sooner or later.
That raised the question. Did he tell Karl the truth about his father?