I can convert it to Markdown as needed. Attached in PDF format.

See attached.

Starstruck Island

The island below your shuttle, known as Starstruck Island is surrounded by an ominous shimmering veil and is surrounded by jagged rocks jutting out of the turbulent waters which cut it off from the rest of the world. The veil: most  likely smoke from the denizens of Dandoran, their forced community, setup in the midst of what was once an Island oasis, has been plagued by the slimy fist of the Hutts. On this island, criminals, vagabonds, cheaters, and swindlers have been left to rot. Their narrow survival is a message to would-be travellers, that the Hutts of Garganta Galleria Casino Hotel are vile in nature and unforgiving when handing down judgement. 

The entirety of the island itself resembles a shanty town. Makeshift buildings stacked on top of one another, dark windy paths form streets, a flimsy government formed by those strong enough to bully their way to the top, and sandy grit dominate the landscape. The island is devoid of flora and fauna making survival dependent on resource drops that the lawless of Starstruck are forced to fight over. With a heavy taste of salt in the air, thirst increases, as well as hunger. These resource drops are the lifeblood of the island and it’s chaotic economical structure as they are used as leverage to buy loyalty or simply dangled in front of the needy and wielded as bargaining chips. For those wanting to escape? It’s ill-advised, the waters are teeming with predatory creatures such as the notorious firaxan shark and security drones police the perimeter; ready to seek and destroy anyone attempting to flee. 

It is believed that this was the site of a great battle between the Revenants and Principate, for below the surface, located in the cavernous veins carved by water, artifacts of unknown origin lay dormant, ripe for plunder. However, winter at your own risk, as at any moment, these caverns can become underwater tombs.

(4215) Ranco Pateesa, COU

Expansionist Faction

Dandoran – The Factory

Far from the lights and glamour of the hotels, the casinos and the pleasure barges, lays a squat grey stone building in a rocky deserted area of the planet with emptiness for hundreds of miles in any direction. The building has sheer walls, only small windows, heavy metal doors and a flat roof with weapon turrets and small shuttle bays. A century or more ago this used to be the harshest maximum security facility on the planet, where local and off world prisoners served their sentences with little hope of early release or rescue. Now it is an even more sinister place than before, for this is where the helpless who owe money to the Hutts try and work off their debts against spiralling interest rates, or slaves brought in to work to death before being replaced.

Much of the original layout of the old prison has been kept, with the small cells off the balcony landings being even more stark and basic for the new residents and those of the overseers are only little better. Below them the large communal areas have been turned over to workstations and assembly lines where the workers toil for eighteen hours a day with only short breaks in between. Everything from electronics to basic food stuffs to narcotics have their own area, and the overseers walk amongst the pour souls labouring watching for signs of slacking or theft and are ready to use a shock rod for any transgression.

The lighting is dim , the only lights being those hanging from the balconies above or smaller lamps above the more specialist workstations. There are a large number of competing smells from damp and mould, sweat and body odour, stale dropped food and melted plastic, merging into a general miasma that pervades over the area so long that those there barely notice it but immediately hits anyone entering like an assault.

The Factory is a place of despair and hopelessness. A few come believing they can work off their debt and leave, but soon reality hits and then acceptance. There is no escape from the factory, unless one is willing to fight their way out and get others to do so. And only the boldest or most desperate would be prepared to make an attempt to leave, or take the place for themselves and free those within, or become their new master.

I hope this one brings home the bacon, though it might be a bit too cheesy.