Girls, guns, and gangs – all the prime ingredients to a small town in Thailand called Roanapur, a far more wretched hive of scum and villainy than Mos Eisley can ever hope to achieve.
It’s here that some major players in the dirty business of…well, everything, call home.
The police exist, but know enough to not go after the big shots and crime gangs. They let them go about their business, so long as they don’t upset the locals too much, and in return they get to live another day.
Gun fights are oddly uncommon until you realize that everyone, their mother, and their mother’s mother are packing enough combined firepower to take down several small armies.
Morals are at a continuous low, and at the end of the day, no one’s part of the good guys. The nice ones get shot, and the dead can’t really be nice anymore.
God and love are all sold out. The only thing you’ve got left to rely on is money and guns. With those two things, you’re pretty much set for life. Anything else is a bunch of sentimental bullshit.
It’s here in this town that our stories start. The Obsidian Cove, one of the rare unaffiliated ships that belongs to the courier company The Islanders, is on a tentative peace with more-or-less every group. Not because of their total badassery quotient, which is fairly high, but more that when they are paid to get shit done, they get shit done, even if that means having to kill anyone and everyone in their way to do so.
Enjoy the ride, and remember: there’s no cure for a fool with a gun.