[color=fff79a][b]Surta Matahari Huchson[/b][/color][hr]

For many, there wouldn't be much they can learn while drinking whiskey in a cantina. 

For someone like her, for people like her, those rough and tumble types, mercs who relied on their reputation and looks, there was often much to learn just by listening around to the cantina's noise. Even with her obviously odd appearance, she nonetheless seemed to fit right in with the crowd, just as much as those mercs sporting sleek black spiky armor, or that crazed looking Duros with a large blaster and tattered trenchcoat. Just a part of the group, seeking their fortune.

And fortune she did find.

In a low voice, barely heard over the scuffle of some gammorean idiocy, seemed to be a weapons dealer, bragging about his sales and profit margins to a beautiful lass. It was the sort of thing Surta would have normally dismissed as the typical bluster normally employed to impress people, but him being completely sober, and implying he was about to meet one of them soon was what took her interest, especially when he implied it was someone very important.

Perfect, information that could pay her a pretty penny if she can follow this up. Perhaps even more, if she take this person and whoever it was back as well.

She paid for her drink, and left as soon as the weapons dealer did, a huge armored fellow close by his back, most likely his bodyguard. With her abilities, it was a simple enough affair to tail them to a large guarded building; all she needed to do was follow at a distance and walk where they cannot see her. Inhaling slowly, she searched around the building for an entry point, before finally settling on an air vent just large enough to fit her small stature.