Sora tears his gaze from the impaled thug to meet Sella's.

"It is the affliction we have spoken of since Utapau," he explains, "We awoke with it. But have no memory of how we came to be afflicted with it. Sometimes we can master it. At other times it masters us. I personally wish to be cured of it," he adds with a dark glance at Zirak.

"Yes, you've made it abundantly clear, Sora, that you are burdened with a conscience," says Zirak impatiently as he begins to search the nikto corpses, "I'm sure the knowledge will make you feel much better when you accidentally husk Sella."

"I will find a way to cure myself before that happens," Sora replies, to himself as much as to the rest of the party.

Bane, who has been listening to the conversation and watching Zirak's fruitless efforts at searching the bodies with limited interest, finally interrupts.

"Unless anyone is interested in a couple of grubby vibrodaggers, I suggest we keep moving."

The party meet no one else in the docking facility. At the end of the corridor is an elevator. It still seems to be functional. And lowers the party, ever so slowly, to the street level, some twenty or so meters below the facility. The street outside is busy. Workers, mercenaries and lowlifes hurry past, keeping their heads down and not stopping to apologise when they brush into others. Bane appears to know where he is going, leading the way down a series of streets until they reach a grimy building, built into the duracrete wall of the alleyway in which they stand.

"Your choice of locations just gets better and better," Sella says, not sharing Zirak's sentiments. She pauses at the entrance, attempting to read the name of the establishment, printed above the door. However she is unsuccessful in her attempt, due to several layers of graffiti and grime that have accumulated over it, and gives up, following Bane inside.

The establishment appears to be a cantina, such as it is. It is a dingy establishment, with little more than a bar and two tables. It is empty at present, save for a lean nikto who stands behind the bar, wiping off a glass with a grimy cloth.

"Are we eating here, or gathering information?" Zirak inquires, looking like he's holding off deciding if he needs to take offense at the grimy cloth.

"Do you mean 'eating' or eating?" Bane clarifies sharply.

"The latter, naturally," replies Zirak, "I've already done the former."

"Oh no..." the nikto groans as he recognises Bane.

"Karko," Bane calls out with overly pleasant familiarity, ignoring Zirak's look, "How are things? I see the customer base is as healthy as usual."

Karko watches warily as Bane approaches.

"I ain't got nothin' for yer, Bane," he protests, "New gang on this turf. Don't like us nikto dealin' with non-nikto."

"We just had a run in with some of those gang members, I think," Bane replies coolly, "I think we persuaded them to relax their regulations as far as we are concerned."

Karko doesn't look convinced.

"They's dangerous, Bane."

"I've got Sora Bulq here," Bane points at the Sora, "Most wanted criminal in the galaxy. Now that's what I call dangerous."

Zirak arches an eyebrow, looking both jealous and a bit peeved.

"And I assure you, I am every decimeter as dangerous as Sora."

Karko shoots Sora and Zirak each an apprehensive glance, before turning back to Bane.

"Fine," he sighs, "Whatcha wanna know?"

"Oh, nothing too dangerous," Bane replies smoothly, "Just someone who can change a ship’s registration codes."

Karko seems to debate internally. Then Sora gives a cough which makes Karko give a start of fear.

"Alruun Darros," he says hastily, "Duros. Lower West-Central Apartments. Apartment 3197."

"There," says Bane pleasantly, "That wasn't so hard."
This message was lightly edited by the player at 00:30, Thu 23 Nov 2017.

Karko glares at him.

"Well," says Bane to the others, "We have what we need. Unless any of you fancy a..." he trails off, glancing at a shelf of discolored liquids.

"No thank you," says Sella quickly.

"We don't," confirms Zirak, in rare agreement with Sella.