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star wars moods: hutt space


Notes

The streets of Nar Shaddaa stink of spent blaster packs, death-sticks, and the sweat of a thousand different alien species. Amongst the deafening chatter in countless languages, the whoops of revelers, the calling of street vendors, the hum of airspeeders in this city-moon that seems to contain more life than the rest of the galaxy put together, you hear a smattering of music. Glimmik, swing-bop and scrak, classic jizz, core-bop and Hutt turbofolk, even something far-off that you think could be Mandalorian throat-singing. You sit down on the dead chassis of a burnt-out astromech and take in the noise of Hutt Space.


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