Isaac sat quietly at the bar, his helmet resting on the counter, hand casually wrapped around a drink as he took in his surroundings. He sat only occasionally glancing back away from his drink, relying on his sharp hearing and other senses to get a picture of his surroundings. Standing next to him in a deceptively casual stance was another armed and armored figure, his body's silhouette masked by a hooded overcoat and helmet. Scanning the crowd from beneath its helmet, Bix, Isaac's custom BX-series commando droid- dressed in typical merc clothing- relayed information to an earpiece that was looped around Isaac's ear.

"I would be considerably more efficient if I didn't have to wear a helmet and armor." The droid said through Isaac's earpiece for what must have been the fourth time. "A Ssi-ruu appears to be engaging in combat with a group of humans and twi'leks." Bix added, almost as though it was an afterthought.

"I heard you the first time, Bix. Tough luck." Isaac replied coolly. "And as long as blasters aren't pointed at us, it isn't our problem."

"Understood."

Isaac debated whether or not staying here was a good idea. Pundit Station was nothing more than a black-market. An abandoned research station or other 'reclaimed' and retrofitted into a cantina- among other services. By its very essence it was a seedy and shady place- not that Isaac was unused to it. Granted, Isaac had been in a bit of a slump of late, he had either been skimped on for payment, though whoever thought trying to cheat a trained killer out of his money was either incredibly dumb or incredibly ballsy, or he had been burned by contacts. The upfront money was good, and the offer was good, almost [i]too[/i] good. But Isaac needed this job, this payout could help pave his way to an early retirement.

There was some commotion behind him as a woman kicked some thug in the chest, sending the ruffian sprawling to the ground, in front of Isaac's feet. The drunken sleazeball gasped for breath, his hand grasping for a blaster pistol that had fallen out of his coat. "Firearm detected." Bix stated mechanically as he drew his own blaster rifle and leveled it at the thug. 

"Put it away Bix." Isaac said calmly as he reached down and plucked the blaster pistol off of the ground. He examined it in his hand. It was a DL-18, a respectable weapon in most circumstances, but this one had been used and misused to the breaking point. With the amount of abuse this weapon had gone through, Isaac was surprised it didn't explode when the thug tried to shoot with it. Casually pulling the weapon's power cell out, and flicking it into the crowd, Isaac carelessly dropped the now-useless weapon on the ground in front of the thug. 

"Are you always that violent when people hit on you?" Isaac asked, his voice low and almost bored sounding, but the arch of his brow and implied some measure of amusement.