He didn’t necessarily detest the atmosphere. In fact, a few years ago he would have found it quite welcoming. The seats around him were filled with patrons dressed in shiny suits and elegant dresses.

Diggers, ironically enough, was a term that held no literal meaning, though technically perusing through a galaxy scanning for ancient ruins or the occasional crashed ship could be considered by some as ‘digging through forgotten treasure’.

The Council of Races and the United Galactic Nation were terrifying names for a pinwheeler to hear. Although when one’s work was of the same criminal nature as Keez, it made sense; Any mention of authority could bring either of them to shudder.