It was a cold and windy day on Corellia as The Fallen Angel touched down on a landing pad in the capital city. The exit ramp of the ship opened up with a faint hiss, and Dante Russo walked down the ramp, wearing a warm black cloak to keep the cold from getting to him. The young traveler made his way through the security checkpoints outside the pad, and headed for the government building in the very heart of the city. He could've, and should've, taken an air taxi, but he preffered to walk when he wasn't flying his ship. He lowered the pilot's goggles he always wore on his head over his eye's, sheilding them from the bitter cold and making it easier to see. He was here on urgent business involving the Sith occupation of Coruscant. And rumors of an attack that was supposed to be going on there. Damn this cold weather! he thought to himself, and stopped at a nearby cantina to warm up and get a drink. Sitting down at an unoccupied table, he removed his hood and flight goggles and ordered a corellian ale. As he waited for his drink, he took a look at the cantina's occupants. No threats from what he could see. Good, he didn't need, nor want any trouble.