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on some far-flung planet.

If it was big enough to justify

having a civilian-run cantina, it probably wasn't in the
middle of a hot war zone. And if it had the comforts of
the Southern Underground, without the concomitant
dangers, it couldn't be too bad.

Of course, this guy was a recruiter, and he just might be

inclined to shade the truth a bit if it served him to do so.
He probably got paid for every qualified warm body he
delivered. Then again, an Imperial Work Contract had to
spell out the reality to be valid, even these days. If you
were in the army or navy, you didn't have many rights,
but as a civilian you usually got a better deal.

And it wasn't as if she was besieged with offers of work.

Cantina operators had certain skills, of course, but there
wasn't a formal course of study in the craft that she knew
about, and others of her ilk weren't in particularly short

"I can bring my own security chief?"

"As long as he, she, or it doesn't have a felony criminal

record and there are no outstanding Imperial warrants for
major crimes. An appropriate salary will be provided for
such work, and quarters will be provided for you and any
security assistant you might wish to bring, as part of the
package. Yours includes a single-occupancy room,
standard officer's suite," Alamant said. Then he pointedly
turned to look at Rodo before looking back at her. "Your