You live by your wit alone and die by the tenacity of your opponent, and currently you're leaning further onto the side of death. You're ship was nearly ripped in half after a botched cargo freighter raid led to having your ship ambushed by three cruiser class imperial war ships. You were able to limp your crumbling ship to the nearest system, the Velusian Cluster, the most disgusting symbol of imperial decadence in the charted universe. Still, with a crew of aliens, cyborgs, genetically modified brutes, and semi human freaks blend right into the crowd of freaks, and the cargo you repossessed should be able to hold you and your sailors up until the ship is repaired, if you're smart. You and your surviving crew just have to lay low in the shadier parts of the city and find a way to occupy their time, which on planets full of sexually promiscuous creations and, at best, relaxed laws you shouldn't find that too difficult. You are currently just strolling through on a (budget) night on the town, trying to learn about some of the customs. So, who exactly are you?
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