Minutes later, Gov Gnul stopped the small landspeeder in a dedicated parking zone outside the Brimstone Whammy. The Ugnaught mechanic arched his right eyebrow at the droids.
“Spudnik knows this but you’re not local,” Gov says to Charkarr. “Brimstone Whammy is a local’s cantina. Mostly quiet but gunfights do happen. It’s also the best place to get information on what we want to know. My guess? Tose has himself on the wrong side of a Hutt Kajidic or the Pyke Syndicate. Maybe both.”
He stabs a finger at the cantina.
“So we go in and find out whose rousting miners. Olee Pindol, the owner, might know something. So might Habin Marks, the local Mining Guild rep. Neither love the Hutts or the Pykes.” Gov stepped out of the vehicle then waved a hand.
“Come along and don’t doddle. I have spoken.”
The front door slid open to reveal a long room littered with tables and patrons. A bar and open grill lines set in the far wall is the source of all manner of sounds and scents. The lighting isn’t dim, but it is subdued from an ever-present yellow-orange haze that wanders the establishment like a lazy weather pattern.
Gov pauses at the front door to give a curt wave to a tall, blue-skinned Durosian woman dressed in a tube top and faded trousers more accustom to a starfighter pilot, waved back and smiled. The mechanic urged Charkarr and Spudnik along while he escorted them to the bar. Along the way, there was a low grumble from some about droids in the cantina.
“Gov, suga! It’s been too long!” Olee leans on the bar with a twinkle in her red eyes for the surly mechanic. Gov looks persistently unmoved.
“Olee. We’re here for some information. There is a mutual friend who may be in trouble…”
Gov begins to explain the situation in his matter of fact tone, periodically having Spudnik or Charkarr interject missing facts along the way.
As the pair talk about Tose and his predicament, a tense atmosphere swirls around the bar. It’s a close, tight sensation that slowly wraps its tendrils around the small group. A sense of impending danger. It doesn’t take a complex scan to identify any number of threats, from Pyke Syndicate enforcers at a table a few meters away, to a pair of Rodian bounty hunters that are making a good show to appear as if they are drinking whatever is in their mugs. Then, there is a pair of Bolt Jacker gang bangers at the bar only four steps away.
It could be the product of over-excited circuits but it’s hard for the droids to ignore, they may have become the most interesting people in the room.
Storyteller InstructionsCharkarr! How do you want to handle this?