A soft, persistent rain has been falling for the last several hours. As is common with Nar Shadda showers, it smells vile. The hours have collected enough 'water' to forms a network puddles on any exposed surface. In spite of this the landing platform is as perpetually busy as ever. A general hustle of travelers, droids, and personnel splash about, too consumed with their own tasks to pay much heed to the odd gathering of misfits assembled near a small commuter shuttle. Nastaran turns and heads up the ramp into the shuttle.