The Cantina
Deep within the confines of the Revenant, Ren idly watched and listened. The ship didn't have much in the way of internal security, but if push came to shove, Ren was, even in its downtime and operating under the simplest of AI routines, confident that there was no risk of losing the ship while it was on board. The chances of the Revenant being boarded were low enough of course, but as far as any "enemy" was concerned, there was a monster on board that wasn't in any crew logs or shipping manifests. Ren was the ship's security system, and if a threat appeared, Ren wouldn't be trapped in the ship with them: they'd be trapped in the ship with Ren.
Renli and Rento quietly stepped into the bar alongside SAL. Renli was the active unit, while Rento was performing her duties via her onboard non-sentient AI systems. Rento was more akin to a simple droid in this state, albeit with a better paint job, just as Renli had been when he was first unboxed. Things were going smoothly, for the most part. The patrons weren't terribly concerned by the ships' crews, and as far as any of them could tell, it was business as usual at a shady bar in a bad part of town. His sharp hearing let him listen in on a number of conversations happening, and for the most part, it was just the usual stuff. Drug deals, smuggling rare medical supplies, banned virtual reality games in one corner, alcohol induced arguments, embezzled funds, the works. Nothing too worrisome there, but there were some things that properly caught his attention.
The first was a short-lived brawl: some poor sod had made the mistake of picking a fight with their funganoid crew member, Tibulus. Wait,
Tibulus!? Renli let out a slight chuckle at the skeleton's shitty pun of a name. Probably had it long before his current state, but if anyone could be resurrected by sentient necro mushrooms, it'd definitely be someone with a name like that. And so he swiped a credit note that was hanging out of a large, furry creature's jacket pocket and took a seat at the bar next to the Revenant's shocking choice of a pilot. One of the bartenders, more attentive than any he had seen before, swung one of many its heads up towards him as if implying he should place an order or get off the stool.
"Earth style moonshine. In a mason jar, preferably."Other drinks were infused with various mind altering substances that made them hit far harder than even the purest of Earth's traditional brews, but Renli was attached to his old preferences.
"Sorry. No münshine. Ünly Earth drink is Jakk Danyell's Ten'see whiskey." Disappointing, but not unexpected - that old brand had been around for so long it'd more or less swallowed the entire rest of the liquor export industry, leaving other, better drinks as old fashioned delicacies primarily to be found in Alliance territory. Renli nodded and accepted the offer, then pushed forth the stolen credit note. The Bartender's wall-eyed, dinnerplate face didn't seem to notice or care and left the credit note on the table, then firmly planted an entire unopened bottle on the bar in front of Renli.
Did everyone in space have stupidly high tolerance or something? Either way, Renli turned to Tibulus.
"Enjoying yourself?", he asked with a smile, still surveying the space for any sign of trouble.
The second thing he noticed was that Stryker had left his name out of the conversation with the other captain, either intentionally or by accident. He preferred being referred to as one person anyhow, so that was fine by him. But what was Stryker playing at, here? Was the other captain untrustworthy? It was a question better left to better men though, so Renli turned his thoughts back to the 750ml bottle of bourbon and Mr. Bones.
@Banana
Rento was "off" and thus blissfully unaware of any conscious thoughts that might have otherwise interrupted her security sweep. Every bulging pocket, every possible hidden weapon, every avenue of escape was recorded, processed, and sent to Ren's and Renli's internal transmitters. She was wearing baggy cargo pants and a leather jacket, zipped up over an ancient band tee shirt from before the era of neuroprosthetics and AI. The pants were the obvious place for a hidden weapon, so she had hidden three out of five of her M1911s under the jacket and on her back. Renli was carrying the other, more well maintained one, and she had placed her own personal pistol from her time in the United States Army inside the Tower's storage cabinet for safekeeping before departing the ship.
Some of the more questionable patrons were leering at her, clearly mistaking her for some sort of 'companion bot', and like all other information, this was transmitted to Ren and Renli. She would step in for herself if it caused a problem, but the patrons seemed to all be too drunk and distracted to do anything stupid.
Stryker's mentions of Ne'ero Sol brought Rento's attention to the large man in the gaudy suit. Possibly dangerous, potential unknown. The bodyguards were a much greater threat. One of the organics was very large -- a Havarn, a species known for its martial prowess, and this one was larger than average. But like with all organics, the Havarn seemed rather squishy. More troublesome was the presence of a series of robotic patrons that seemed somewhat out of place. Three older model labor automatons, clearly modified but with unknown potential were present, and Rento's backup AI marked them as suspicious. Whether or not they were actually guards remained to be seen.
A simple logic to speech system waited for a lull in conversation and fed equally simple descriptions of potentially armed patrons, guard armaments, and figures of interest to Stryker's communicator under the assumption he was actually wearing it.
@Crossfire
