The Imperial Presence is represented by a badly tuned holomorph that gets my name wrong. Not that I care overmuch. It's a vintage nanech. Nearly as much an antique as I am. Maybe it's a gesture. Probably it's just another oversight. I don't really pay it much attention anyhow. I'm looking for the Podder-crew and my ride Off-planet. Then I spot them. More vegetable than anything, with clunky old machines caught-up in their masses of tendrils. In my day they at least tried to look human. Now they don't bother. One of them has six legs. The skipper has eight. She's all black widow below the waist. Not what I was expecting. Not by a long shot. They spot me right off. We're out of the White Zone in under a minute. They don't want to stick around any more than I do. Maybe they've got good reason. I know better than to ask.
