The room was dark and smoky. Lit with wall sconces that weakly glowed like dying enbers. Walking past the weapons scanner as she entered she noticed there was no responce, no alarm. Not even a blink of light to indicate that the unit was functioning. She was obviously in the right place. Three steps led down into the taverns main room. To the left was a long bar stretching the length of the room. No stools just standing room only. The rest of the room in front of her was taken up by small tables and low stools, four to a table and everything bolted down. There were a set of three alcoves in the back, booths and opaque privacy fields, places for dark business. Even this early in the day several of the tables held patrons. They all shared the look of being down on their luck and having no where else to be.

Walking down the steps she moves left to the bar. Leaning against the cheep cracked plastic bartop she motions to the tender that was ineffectively cleaning a chipped tumbler at the far end of the bar. The tender that was basically a torso on a rail slowly grinds it’s way slowly toward her. Leaning slightly across the bartop, “Looking for Rento Torin.”

The tender stops wiping out the tumber and just stares at her with its glowing blue lenses. After a pause it just shakes it’s head in the negative. Reaching below the bartop she slowing brings up a small blaster and sets it onto the counter, barrel facing the tender. “Looking for Rento Torin.” She repeats. The tender glances briefly to the back of the room, looking back at her his left eye flashes three times and then he again shakes his head in the negative.

Picking up her blaster she reholsters and turns to the back of the room . Tossing a credit onto the bar she moves slowly but with purpose toward the alcove on the right. Looking one last time at the other patrons present and noting not a one even glanced in her direction, she stops in front of the alcove. Making no move to enter she just stands and looks upon the privacy field.

After a half dozen breaths the screen lifts and there in the middle of the booth is figure enshrouded in a dark cloak. Unable to see its face she couldn’t determine what species he or she is. Lifting a gloved hand the figure gestured to the edge of the booth on it’s right.

Slowly sliding into the booth she settles with her hands on the table, a gesture, assurence that she isn’t there to cause trouble, there to talk business. “Rento Torin?”

The figure knods in the affirmative.

“ I understand that your the being to speak to about, lets say, unusual collectables.”

Again the knod.

She sits back and taking a deep breath she reaches under the table. The figure also sudden drops a hand under the table. “Easy.” She states. “Easy, just want to show you something.” She gently lifts her hand back into view. In her hand she is holding a small cloth pouch, about the size of a jento fruit. She slides the bag across the table, the hooded figure opposite her peers inside.

“Where in the seven hells did you find this.” The voice is surprizingly deep, surprizingly soft but disturbing. Almost like spoken from multiple mouths at once.

“That’s not really important to this conversation now is it.” Not a question, just a statement. “the real question is how much it’s worth to you?”

“Quite valuable but also quite specialized. I would have to feel around. Say a few days, a week at most.” It replied

“No good. I need to be elseware soon. If it’s not something you can handle I’ll have to look someplace else.”

“Now, Now.” It buzzed. ”No need to be Hasty!”

There it was, just a minute movement, a brief hesitation, just a slight shift it in the feel of the room. She gently exhales and looks to the main room. All of a sudden she’s the center of attention of everyone there. All looking at her, all obviously interested. She blinks once, slowly. “It didn’t have to be this way.” She softly states. Turning her hands palms up as if surrendering she scrunches her eyes shut and drops her head. A small marble rolls off her left hand onto the table and explodes. A loud pop and searing light.

Rento screams, hands flying to it’s eyes. Grabing the bag from Rento she’s out of the booth and shooting in a flash. She was fast, catching those in the room by surprise. Without turning she tucks her blaster under her left arm and fires. Rentos head snaps back, a third eye burned into it’s face. Rolling to her right she comes up next to the bars and fires a shot into the tender that happened to be lifting a stubby rifle of it’s own. Her blast hits center mass and the tender slumps in a crackle of sparks and lighting.

She rolls again narrowly avoiding fire from the room, she tosses another marble and sprints for the door. A flash and screams later she stops briefly and calmly removes several threats, she finishes her run out of the cantina turning sharply left she sprints down the ally there.

Down the ally, parked behind the next building over is a small, fast hoverbike. Hopping on she charges out the other entrance to the alley and speeds away, weaving through what little trraffic is there. ‘Damn!’ She muses to herself. ‘Okay, well who’s next on the list.’