What could've easily been a brutal, one-sided hate crime turned into an all-out bar brawl as the newly-arrived prisoners made their stand against their alcoholic aggressors. Maybe the surly locals thought that the unfamiliar misfits would make for easy pickings, but James, John, Saeyon, and the rest offered staunch opposition in a onslaught of punches, projectiles, and makeshift weapons. Fueled by military rigorous training regimens instead of crudely distilled intoxicants rife with acetone and aldehydes, the newcomers fought well, and as the number of conscious Dhasath rapidly dwindled, the destruction within the saloon mounted. This establishment would probably go bankrupt from all the property damage...just what about the unwanted unfortunates could have possibly sparked such devastating vitriol?

Bandit didn't think too hard about it; what mattered to her was that her new 'friends' made excellent distractions. Their efforts gave the deceptively stealthy android almost free reign to scour tables and peruse pockets. In no time at all, Bandit racked up a handful or two of dirty banknotes, frayed and sweat-stained, several personal effects like watches and rings, and plenty of different coins. Ultimately, her spoils didn't amount to that much, maybe equal to the cost of a battery pack or three, if she was lucky.

Luck was seldom on the thief's side, however. Even if Bandit tried to not draw attention to herself, it was only a matter of time until one of the locals spotted her crouching beside a stunned drunkard and paused long enough to realize what she was up to. Bandit's optical sensor snapped up at the sound of a snarled insult and bore witness to an angry brute of elephantine proportions, thundering her way with a makeshift bludgeon in hand.

Without a word, nor even a second's hesitation, Bandit turned and bolted away in abject terror. She pulled over a barstool behind her in the hopes that it'd trip up any would-be pursuer, then expended some of her precious energy to rocket forward with her legs' built-in thrusters. The next moment, she through herself headfirst through a window (which shattered noisily) and into the street or alleyway beyond, ready to flee as far and as fast as she needed to. Maybe she could've gleaned a little more moolah from the aftermath of the fracas inside the saloon, but whatever paltry sum she might gain from her vulturism certainly wasn't worth her life.