The first stop any spacer took, Face knew from his years and years of experience, was not to the customs office. It was not to the supplier or the cargo recipient. No, it was to the cantina.
Bastion felt much like every other industrial planet. Tall buildings that made you feel crowded in on, looming over busy, bustling streets and congested vehicle lanes. The only differences that this planet from, say, Coruscant is that buildings didn't extend miles up into the atmosphere, and most living and business took place at ground level. That, and the overwhelming First Order presence.
They were everywhere, and even where they weren't, they were still felt. They patrolled every street, their banners hung from every building. 'Talk about overkill,' Face muttered to himself. Several locals gave him odd looks as they passed by. He could tell they were locals because they wore ordinary, everyday suits but had armbands with the First Order sigil, the spiked circle that looked like a fang filled mouth, ready to eat anyone that crossed its path. Face couldn't help but think it looked like some sort of rat mouth. It was a much more fitting visual, no offence to rats.
They found a catina, as Face was sure they would, not too far from the spaceport. Even here, where spacers from seemingly all over the galaxy congregrated, the First Order still made itself felt. Instead of an in-house band or even a music player, one of General Hux's speeches played over a hidden loudspeaker. First Order propaganda lined the wall behind the bar, next to wanted posters. Face smiled, both happy that none of his Nexus were on them and happy that, even here, people were causing a ruckus. So much for being the government of law and order, if they couldn't even keep their heartlands - and even in his own head he used air quotes - "safe".
Face directed the others to claim a table in the corner facing the entrance while he himself walked up to the bar. He nodded politely to the bartender, a large, moustachioed man of about Face's age, who a pleasantly expanding waistline. 'What can I get you,' the bartender asked, then looked over to the corner, 'and yours?'
'Two Synth ales and a Corellian whisky,' replied Face, 'and I'll let you know what they're having when I'm done,' he laughed. The bartender laughed amiably along with him.
'So what brings you to my neck of the woods?' the bartender asked as he poured the ales.
'Got myself a bit turned round, to be honest,' said Face, settling into a bar stool. He scratched his beard. 'I was supposed to deliver some droids to some garrison or some such, but I'm blasted if I know where I'm supposed to be going,' he laughed again.
'Things can be confusing, right enough,' the bartender agreed, handed Face the ales, then reached behind him without looking and plucked a bottle of Corellian whisky, poured two glasses, handed one to Face and drank the other.
'That'll be on me,' said Face quickly, taking a sip of his.
'Much obliged, champ,' said the bartender, and made a start on his second glass.
'Lovely little whisky, this,' Face said appreciatively, 'Mister...?'
'Dannika,' said the bartender.
'My thanks, Dannika,' Face took another sip, then leaned on the bar with his left hand to stand, then winced in pain and landed roughly on his seat again. He cradled his hand to his chest.
'Problem there, mister?' asked the bartender.
'Ah, just hand a bit of a bump a while back,' said Face dismissively. 'Didn't heal right.'
'That's rough, buddy.'
'It is,' Face agreed. 'I should get it seen to, while I'm here.'
'Not a bad idea, that,' said Dannika, then offered, 'Good place for it, best cybernetics offices in this sector.'
'Is that so?' said Face, eyebrows raised. 'I didn't know. That's a stroke of luck.'
Dannika finished his glass and replaced the bottle with a regretful sigh. He reached down and pulled out a tray, placed the ales on it for Face's convenience. 'There's a decent enough surgery at the local hospital. They did my knee last year.'
'I'll have to check them out, right after I see to my load at this garrison, wherever it is, thanks' Face said, standing and holding the tray gingerly. He turned to leave, but stopped and looked back at Dannika. 'Oh,' he said, as a thought occurred to him. 'I don't suppose military bases take civilian patients, I suppose? Knock two birds with one stone, while I'm there.'
Dannika scratched his neck as he thought. 'I know Station 22 - the local garrison - took in some of the more serious emergency cases, a few years ago when we had that big industrial fire. Not sure about non-emergency surgery, though.'
'Ah,' said Face, 'could be worth asking into, while I'm there. Much appreciated!' Face made a slight head bow, then drifted over to Garan and Twitch, who were pretending to be deep in conversation while their eyes looked over the cantina. Face sat slowly and with a groan. He leaned forward and addressed the others, 'okay, so here's what we're gonna do.'
