*After another successful delivery to the planet Vidoris, you made a quick stop at Salami Waystation to refuel and rest. You find your way to station's cantina for a nice cold beer.* *The large flat-screen above the bar displays planetside news broadcasts from Vidoris' global network. Rapid-fire images tell tales of political inequality, violent crime, and galactic migration strains.* "Always the end of the world somewhere." *The voice plays across your mind like delicate fingers on a harp. To your right, an insectoid male is leaning on the bar, gently swirling a glass of whiskey in one chitinous hand. He regards you with what must be a wry smirk among his kind. The voice like rain on tin roof tickles your synapses once again.* "You look like the traveling type. How's life in the rest of the galaxy?" *Giving him a glance over you see he's dressed in his species' version of a casual suit. His blazer is adorned with a few pins with slogans on them. One prominent pin proudly boasts, 'I'm voting for ZXTHRYR!'*