Typho grunted at Scynthe's words and rechecked the occupants. Most were the native Bothans, however there were some other species, and what looked like a few Spacers.

"Hnh. Well, we're not here to make friends, are we? Strict business. It we have to force some... unpleasantness on the locals, well, then I guess we have no choice. Well, let's get under way. We'll split up. You check out the left area of the Cantina. Investigate the occupants. I'll do a sweep of the right."

Typho clenched his fist and hit his chest with it, signalling for Scynthe to get to work. The Mandalorian turned away and made his way to a group of sour-looking Bothans who looked as if they were frequent customers around here.

Scynthe watched Typho for a few seconds as he made his way to the right side of the cantina, then swiftly turned to his left, scanning the area. There were a few groups of Bothans scattered here and there, all of them giving him dirty looks, but most seemed more concerned with their drinks than anything else. Scynthe searched for anything that seemed out of the ordinary... and then he saw it. A Twi'lek was seated near a side-exit to the bar, and he was speaking in hushed tones to a local Bothan. Scynthe watched for a minute as they conversed for a while longer, then saw the Twi'lek slide a pouch of credits to the Bothan, who then handed the Twi'lek a small piece of paper. The Bothan than quickly stood up and began to walk out the exit.

Scynthe moved quickly. The Bothan walked out the door and into the adjacent alley.

The Twi'lek studied the paper for a few seconds, then began to stand up. A firm hand planted on his shoulder and pushed him back down.

"What's the hurry, friend? Please, sit back down. We certainly don't want to make a scene here... do we?"

As Typho neared the group of Bothans, they looked up, and eyed him suspiciously and sourly. One or two of them were trying to give the Grey Vigo hints, by patting blaster holsters and knife sheaths. Typho looked at the weapons scornfully; they were toys for children compared to what the GTC Operatives carried with them.

"Nice day for a drink, eh, gentlemen? There's no need for you to play with your blasters here... I'm just looking for some good company. Besides, you don't want to go in over your head, do you?"

Whilst he finished his last sentence, Typho patted his Eradicator XT-750S Blaster Rifle, which was hanging loosely from his arm, a strap keeping it in place.

The Twi'lek looked up nervously at Scynthe, then quickly looked back down, avoiding eye contact. "I have nothing you want. Let me be on my way." And with that, he tried to stand up again.

This time, instead of a steady hand pressing him down into his seat, it was the barrel of Scynthe's pistol pressed against the back of his head.

"Haha, I'm sorry. Did I say I didn't want to make a scene? I meant to say that I didn't want to make a mess. Now, the way I see it, you either give me what's in your hand, or this table is going to be filled with more than just your stench."



((OOC: I'm so sorry I let this go for so long, but I'd like to come back to it if it's not too late ))

The Bothans were either very stupid or very brave, as they weren't cowed at all by the vicious looking blaster rifle. One of them began to rise, fumbling for a blaster pistol strapped to his waist.

Typho let out an exasperated sigh, reached down to his thigh, quick as a flash, and pulled one of his combat knives out of its sheath. He flipped it around, so that he was holding the hilt, with a black pointed backwards behind him. The perfect stance to slit or slash someone.

Before the Bothan had time to react, Typho slashed forward, towards the alien's throat, splitting it open, releasing a torrent of blood, as the hostile gurgled, head twisted backwards in agony. The Bothan began a slow fall to the ground, smacking its head on the table, and leaving a smear of blood down it, as his body finally crashed to the floor. A small pool of blood began to emerge from the wound, starting to drench the dead Bothan's clothing.

Typho wiped his knife clean, and returned it to its sheath. He looked up at the remaining Bothans and gave a cruel, cold smile.

"Now, then. I'm sure none of the rest of you want to experience that kind of unpleasantness. Let's just keep our weapons where they belong, and have a nice little chat, yes?"

Scynthe thought he saw a spurt of red to his side and smiled. His comrade was busy at work. He turned back to the Twi'lek, who was fidgeting.

The Twi'lek finally spoke.

"Look, take it, please just don't shoot me. I'm just a family guy trying to make a living, you know? The Hutts are coming after me because of my debt, and the bounty is so huge on this guy, I had to try you know? But I won't now. I'll go straight home, you'll have no more trouble from me!" he finished looking up with a nervous smile.

"You certainly won't." In one swift motion, Scynthe grabbed the top of the Twi'lek's head and his chin and gave a merciless twist. The Twi'lek quickly fell forward in his chair, his head landing on the tabletop with a small thud. Scynthe grabbed the note from his hand and walked back to the bar, hailing the bartender and throwing him a few credits.

"He's had a bit too much to drink. Let him sit a while" The bartender simply grunted with a small nod and continued his business.

Scynthe turned his attention back to Typho's situation and began to watch from a small distance. He always enjoyed watching the man work.

Seeing that he had their full undivided attention, Typho gave another cruel smile. He reached out, and grabbed the chair that the former live Bothan, now laying dead in a pool of his own blood was sitting on beforehand. He spun it around, and placed it in front of himself, and sat down. The Bothans continued to stare at him, no cockiness or arrogance on their faces any more. Just plain white fear. Typho looked up and them and waved at them to sit down.

"Oh, come on. There's no reason we can't be civil. Please, sit. I just want to ask a few questions. And you WILL answer them, or share the same fate as your friend here."

Typho waited for the message to sink in, by prodding the body of the Bothan with his boot, causing more blood to seep out. He looked over at the Bothans who had finally sat down before continuing.

"So, apparently there was an incident three days ago that included a Weequay called Diergu Lunko and a human named Valian Gryn. Anyone know anything about this?"

Scynthe watched as Typho and the Bothans finally sat down. If anyone could intimidate his way through such a situation, it was Typho. Scynthe was considering moving closer so he could hear the conversation, when he noticed something happening at the table behind Typho. It appeared Typho's recent kill had a few neighboring Bothans a little bothered, and Scynthe didn't appreciate their points, glares, and eager blasters. While he figured Typho was already aware of the situation, Scynthe had the man's back, and he was always eager to keep his hands busy.

There were four Bothans at the table behind Typho. Two had just stood up between the two other, hands seated on their pistols. The two standing each suddenly felt a hand resting on their backs.

"Wrong move, scum." Scynthe said as he jerked back his hands, flexing his wrists and triggering the release on his hidden wrist-mounted blades. The two slivers of silver shot forward, piercing straight through the Bothans as two spurts of blood shot out of their chest onto the table. Scynthe quickly turned the two impaled Bothans and shoved their dying bodies into the other two Bothans, who were struggling to get out of their chairs. Scynthe then quickly pulled out his pistol and dispatched two shots, one at each of the still-struggling Bothans. All movement instantly ceased.

Scynthe grabbed a chair and sat down, facing away from Typho, and leaned back, returning the stares of half the cantina with a steely glare.

Typho heard a small commotion behind him, followed by by grunts and two blaster shots. Typho knew what had happened and as he turned around to inspect the incident, he nodded, seeing that he was right. As always, his partner, Scynthe, had got his back. Looking over at the Bounty Hunter, he gave a nod, a small half-grin appearing.

"Thank you, comrade. Always good to have you at my back."

Typho returned his gaze to the now even more frightened Bothans. Scynthe's actions had worked even further to their advantage by scaring the hell out of the Bothans even further.

"Enough stalling... SPEAK!"

Typho roared out the final words, galvanising the prey into action. One of them leaned forward slightly and replied.

"We heard about the incident, but never saw it. Another of us was there when it happened, and he told us. We're in a small crime group, known as the Committee. It's all small time, but it gives us a living. Our man who saw the incident is a Bothan called Ma'atho. Please, we don't know any more."

"Where can we find this... Ma'atho?"

"You should be able to find him at our headquarters. It isn't far from here, it's hidden in the back rooms of another cantina known as "Shi-Lak". Now please, we don't want any more trouble..."

Scynthe smiled at the Bothan's words. Typho and Scynthe weren't ones to leave any loose ends....

Typho let out a cold, deep chuckle once he heard the final sentence of the Bothan. Seeing Scynthe smile, he nodded, and began to reach for his XT-750S Blaster Rifle.

"We know you don't want any trouble. And neither do we, especially down the track. That's why we've got to do what we've got to."

There were four remaining Bothans, due to one of them already being killed by Typho. The Comitatus Vigo slammed his blaster rifle to his shoulder, and aimed down his sight at two of the Bothans. He fired twice, point blank range, and two small blasts out blue burst out, in a flash of an eye. The Bothans didn't have time to react before both heads jerked backwards, blast scorch marks covering their faces.

Typho sneered, and let Scynthe deal with the remaining two.

Scynthe was ready to draw as soon as Typho made his move. After the two blaster rifle shots were fired off, Scynthe quickly drew his pistol and dispatched a third Bothan with a shot that landed right between his eyes. Scynthe saw the fourth Bothan attempting to draw his own pistol and smiled. He allowed the Bothan to raise his pistol halfway before Scynthe fired again. His shot landed on the Bothan's wrist, causing him to cry out in pain as he dropped his weapon. Scynthe walked forward a few steps and drew back his pistol before slamming the butt of the pistol into the jaw of the Bothan, causing him stumble sideways before hitting the ground. Scynthe finally let off one last shot, silencing the Bothan forever.

Stepping over a few bodies, Scynthe rejoined Typho's side and nodded.

"Couldn't resist a bit of sport. Let's get out of here."

Typho grinned mirthlessly. Scynthe was definitely a man to make things a little more entertaining.

"Aye, I hear you. It's much more fun with a little bit of sport."

The two men began walking out of the Cantina, their little escapade for information completed. They had just exited the establishment, when Typho remembered something he'd seen back there.

"I noticed you dispatching that Twi'lek back there and picking up that note of his. What does it say?"

Scynthe held up the piece of paper with a smile of satisfaction. The paper was filled with lines, and appeared to form some kind of layout, with the name "Gryn" scrawled out at the top.

"This, comrade, appears to be a crude drawing of the floor-plan of a safe house, marked with a safe room and a possible side-entry. With any luck, this is where Gryn is hiding."

Scynthe folded the paper back up and replaced his small smile with a look of disappointment.

"Unfortunately, we have no way of knowing where this is. There is no address and the building is untitled. I'm hoping our new friend Ma'atho can help us out with that bit of information."

Typho grunted and took the note from Scynthe, closely examining it for any extra clues. Unfortunately, none were to be found. It was still a good find, however.

"Well, at least this will help us when we find the place. Good work for getting this. You have a real knack for "persuading" people to give you information and details. Now, let's go find this "Shi-Lak". According to those Bothans, it isn't far from here. Perhaps there's a datamap terminal that we can access to see which direction it is in."