After a moment of thought, a glance into imagination, Truz shook his head as if here awakening from falling asleep during a battle. Or at least his nervousness made him feel that way. It wasn't much of a battle; he was simply standing in an empty circular hallway. But in his mind, Truz had a sense of needless urgency about him since he arrived on Coruscant. No, perhaps since he was born.

He decided he would go out and venture a bit. He might as well, he had new clothes and it was somewhat of an occasion. So he stepped back into his room, dropped his sack and changed into the clothes that Vecker had given him. They fit strangely well, except for the jacket, which had sleeves that were a bit too short for him.

He stepped back out, into the elevator and down into the lobby. He passed by Pilt, the attendant from before, who seemed to be still cleaning the exact same spot on the floor. Truz said "Goodbye" on his way out. Pilt nodded.

Stepping back into the alleyway, he was still a bit afraid to go back into the busy street ahead. He told himself not to venture too far on his first night. He made it to the corner, and then saw a fading neon sign, vertically stating "Cheap Drinks: 2 for 5 Credits. Ladies drink free." Truz had no desire to drink, whether the beverage was cheap or not, nor did he want to watch ladies drink free beverages. He went inside anyways.

His reasoning was that if he were to ever become a real bounty hunter or mercenary, he would have to be familiar with bars and such. He couldn't back out now. He had to be tough, and drink hard things, to kick-start his reputation. Then perhaps someone would hire him.

The bar was packed, as busy as the street outside. The room was filled with beings from across the galaxy, every sector Truz could think of, and then some. The odor of all the different pheromones made the air almost soupy, making one noxious aroma of the various beings and their various, bubbling, mucky drinks. Tables dominated most of the room, with many patrons walking around, serving drinks, and chatting between them. All the way to one side, was a long bar along a wall. At the end of it was an empty stool, and Truz approached it.

Sitting down, he noticed a Gand sitting on the adjacent stool. As Truz watched the bartender shuffle behind the counter, he waited for the right moment to ask for a drink. Before that moment came, the Gand turned to him, and spouted "You're that punk kid who bumped into me when I was on a job, aren't you!"

Truz was so frightened, he hopped off of the stool and put his arms up in forfeit, yet again, "It was an accident, I really am sorry"

"You're lucky it didn't cost me the job. I still blasted the guy I was after, and got my two thousand credits. So, sit down kid, I've got the money today. I'll spot you a drink"

Truz was confused by the strange hospitality. He began to think he might be poisoned, or knifed, or blasted under the table. But then again, what did he have to lose? He had something to gain, which was a free beverage to fill him up.

He sat back down, with a lax air about him for once. He was still twitching on the inside. The Gand struck up a conversation:

"So, I'm Ussar, the findsman. Heard of me?"

"No I am afraid I haven't."

"Really? How long have you been in this area?"

"Three hours."

"Oh, well that explains it. Basically, I'm a Gand Findsman. We're very famous for our tracking abilities."

"Oh, is that so…"

Ussar looked directly into Truz' eyes. It was almost hypnotic. His large, silvery black faceted eyes sat in his round head, which sported a thick, brown exoskeleton. His stature was much shorter than Truz', and in his mouth he had a Gand respirator. The circular machine covered his mouth, and it had tubes that lead down into a cylindrical canister that was hanging near his long, thin tendrils. He was wearing a ruffled, tan colored robe that matched his skin color with all sorts of markings written over it in fading color.

"Kid, you're so green, I feel like I'd be killing you if I didn't give you a hand. Just look, I'm heading out. If you want to make some quick credits by giving me a small hand of assistance on my next job, meet me down by the apartment lobby tomorrow morning. Real quick, it'll get you 100 credits and food in your snout"

"Yeah, sure! No problem, I'll be there. Whatever you need"

"You lucked out, kid. I usually work alone, and I usually don't help people out. I'm expecting you to be there"

Ussar left the building promptly. Truz was excited about working with Ussar. He didn't think he would be working with a real bounty hunter so soon. He began daydreaming of the two of them blasting officers and grabbing loot, only to end the day in a cantina, throwing credits at poor saps who just got off of their shuttle from Rodia, or Mon Calamari, or whatever. He was hoping everyone would stop calling him kid by then.

As Truz daydreamed, his face sank somewhat and he stared into the black sheen of the counter. He looked at his reflection, which was marred by a brown smudge that covered the reflection's left eye. He started to move his head a bit from side to side to see his full reflection, however he could never get it right. In time he ordered a drink, which was whatever the bartender suggested. He spent time thinking. Maybe he should just take the credits he would get tomorrow from Ussar and go back home. It would be a shameful return, but a safe one and maybe he could live on the other side of the planet, and not worry about his family. But he had come so far. He was confused.

A few minutes later, a female Zabrak came and sat in the stool at the bar next to Truz, where Ussar was sitting. She was amazing. Her face was beautiful, the Zabrak tattoos on it were soft, only a few shades from her skin tone, unlike the dark bold tattoos most Zabraks had. Directly under her eyes, the tattoos formed downward spikes, magnifying the power of her emerald eyes. Iridonian, her horns were in a circle like a crest atop her scalp. She was slender, and tall, almost as tall as Truz. She wore a green tank top, and military leggings that weren't uncommon for mercenaries, as they looked as if they were thick civilian pants. Her pilot's helmet had patterns upon it that seemed to connect to the ones on her face. The helmet had styled holes to fit her horns, and its dark amber color almost faded into the background of the cantina. Truz had never seen anything like her.

She sat down without even looking at Truz, and ordered a "Corellian Twister." Truz was amazed by how calmly she walked into a place where nearly everyone was armed, took a seat, and ordered a drink without awkward twitching. She began looking at the counter as Truz was before, until she noticed him glancing at her. "Hey, aren't you the new Rodian guy at the apartments down there?"

"Yes, I think." This moment competed with being held at blasterpoint for the most nervous moment since coming to Coruscant.

She held out her hand. "Sayla Aador. I'm on your floor." She let the edge of her mouth curl into half of a grin as she waited for Truz to stretch out his hand. He eventually did, with great apprehension. Her handhake was firm for a woman. She continued "So welcome to Coruscant. Get used to the oppression, it's the first thing you learn being nonhuman here."

"Oppression? You mean the crime lords?"

"No, well, not so much. I am talking about the Empire. To them, we're all a bunch of vermin. They couldn't care if we all died."

Sayla explained to Truz how the Empire Xenobiologists dubbed all of them "not human-like" and thus lesser beings. She explained how slowly, the Empire was enslaving countless races around the galaxy, and how the Zabrak colonies were waging a military resistance, and that she was a reconnaissance person sending secret Intel back to her Zabrak comrades. She spoke of a glorious revolution, where the humans would be forced to treat everyone as equals. The only way to get there, she said, started with fighting back and overthrowing the Empire in all the colonies, and in Coruscant itself. Truz would interrupt her occasionally to state how much he loathes humans, or to point out how smart she was.

After nearly an hour of talking, two stormtroopers entered through the front gate, and one said through his helmet "Alright, everyone stays where they are and takes out proper identification."

Sayla strapped the hanging strap on her helmet around her chin, and wished Truz farewell as she ran out the back from a door behind the bar counter. Sayla did this so swiftly, that only one stormtrooper was able to see what appeared like a silhouette going through the door.

"What was that?" the trooper pointed his rifle at the bartender.

"Oh, just my waiter droid going into the back, as to not confuse you patrol officers"

After checking the back only to find a decommissioned waiter druid, the Stormtroopers lost interest, checked a few random patrons and left. Truz left soon afterwards.

Truz was more tired now than ever before. He headed up to his floor, hitting the white knob jabbed in the elevator. He opened the door to his empty room, only to find a sleeping body on the ground.

"What the heck!" Truz shouted at the sight.