The gunslinger’s beige hat rests upon his head, shielding his pure white eyes seldom seen in a veil of darkness. His gray face has gained many wrinkles working for so many years in the harsh sunlight, further accentuating his perpetual, resting scowl. The gleaming platinum revolver in his holster is the very same he used all the way back when his story began. Its build is vintage in style, yet still holds the same functionality as any standard plasma pistol. His weapon was not loaded with bullets but rather packets of energy that were capable of firing off several dozen shots before the chamber cycled to the next.

He scans the tavern, surveying the mostly empty seats all lit by white light stained orange by the sheer amount of cigarette smoke filling the room on its more active nights. On top of this pungent odor, the rusted walls also brought the scent of unfiltered well water. Overall, a comfortable establishment. To a citizen of Kreint, a bar has no value unless it’s been well lived in. In this case, it quite literally has, as it was built from the refurbished parts of a civilian transport vessel.

It was close to sunset now, though, Garren was content. He’s waited here for hours, but for good reason. They should be here soon.

And, speak of the devils, a thunderous boom shakes Kreint just as the thought crosses his mind. A sound familiar to him and any person living in Alliance worlds- a window-rattling BAM-BAM of a distant two-part sonic boom that only marked the atmospheric entry of spacecraft. Anyone living by a spaceport or a place like Kreint are more than comfortable with these sudden blasts, to a degree that not Garren nor the few patrons in the dive visibly reacted at all. When someone lives in a thunderstorm, thunder becomes considerably less frightening. Adjusting his hat, Garren stands up and quickly jogs his way into the dusty main road of the town.

Very few pay it any mind, but Garren finds his eyes locked on a small shape glistening in the pale blue sky only slightly tinged with the fire of sunset. The sound of its outdated thrusters roar in a manner not typical of high-end Alliance ships. This is no trash haul- this is a civilian vessel.