One More Round, Friend

I staggered into the bar that day, exhausted and panting like I always did after I'd been outside too long. My thick, black-brown beard was soggy with the sweat, and my ridiculously unmanageable hair had grown since I last checked. My snout was twitching too, but this was normal. Tatooine was an uninteresting place, all told, but it had two damn suns. For some stupid reason this made it four times as hot as any other planet I'd walked on.

The place was dark, deliberately so to give the regulars time to figure out who a newcomer was and what he wanted while his eyes were adjusting. It didn't work on me, of course – I had recently developed great night vision – but somehow I doubted anyone found me that interesting. On my home planet, the sight of a six-feet-tall werewolf strolling into a bar would turn heads, but this was the Mos Eisley cantina, known to its friends as the 'Star Bar'. The place had beautiful music, which is mainly why I had come back three times, but it had a real ugly clientele.

There was another reason for my return. I was looking for someone. I suppose everyone walking alone into a bar is looking for someone, but not the someone I wanted. This was an elusive individual who I'd followed half-way across the galaxy. Someone in Mos Espa had told me this place was his regular watering hole. Funny phrase, 'watering hole'. On this planet, where 'moisture' is the chief industry and the buildings are dug into the sand, it's strangely literal. I looked around for him, but saw only some Duros, some guy smoking a hookah, a few scattered drunks and a couple of those little fellas with the brown hoods.

'Afternoon, honey,' said a warm voice, warmer than I was used to in this place. 'What'll it be?' The lady serving me was a little older than me, a little matronly, but immediately likable. I think her hair was grey before its time. Her voice was accented, like most here, and deep. Everything about that voice told you she meant business. I asked for a cold ale and didn't bother her with small talk, then waited as she poured. I guess I judged her wrong – she didn't like the silence, so she asked me my name. I told her. 'Well Jim, I'm Ackmena. What brings you to my cantina?'

'I thought that surly guy owned the place?' I asked, wanting the cool drink a whole lot. 'The guy wouldn't let me take my datadroid in here last week. The bar was full of goddamn trandoshan but I can't bring a talking typewriter?'

'Wuher? It's complicated.' She shushed away what was clearly a touchy subject. 'There are three of us who tend bar – Wuhur, Richard and me. It's my cantina when I'm here, and everyone's welcome so long as blasterfire is kept to a minimum.' Ackmena gave me my drink and I immediately dived into it. Before I could swallow she was pressing me again with her questions. I couldn't blame her for asking – most times this place was full of smugglers.

Like I say, she seemed like fun. I gave her the full story – Corellian private investigator, weird curse, turning into a wolf, looking for jobs and the whereabouts of a crazy-looking guy named Zeebub. She didn't look as surprised as people did on other planets. I was starting to like this world despite the heat. No-one wanted to know me too well and work for someone in my line of business was pretty abundant.

'Zeebub?' Ackmena muttered, flatly. It was quiet and she seemed interested in me. 'Never heard the name. What does he look like?'

'Tall guy. Don't know the name of the species. Pale yellow skin and teeth to match. Oh yeah, and he's got two big, black horns on his head.'

'Doesn't ring a bell. Someone hire you to find this fella?'

'No, this one's personal. He's the guy responsible for my little problem here.' I waved a hand across my sweat-matted mane and ungainly fangs so she got my meaning.

'Yeah, he sounds like a real sweetheart. I'll keep an eye out. Now excuse me Jimmy, I gotta serve that big lunk with the four arms and the gas-mask.'

This place was weird. She trotted away and listened to the guy making noises I'd never understand. Quickly I finished the beer and looked around. It was nice to see the Star Bar nearly empty. There were about seven of us in all, and most were content to sit in their corners and listen to the cute little bith band playing whatever it was they were playing.

I kept coming here, waiting for the time when my tip-off would earn the money I paid for it and my quarry would be there with no gun and some answers. I longed to catch him unawares and force him to turn me back to my old, clean-shaved, completely human self. I couldn't cope with being a wolf-man. I wasn't used to having to groom myself, or the uncontrollable urge to gnaw on bones all day. I usually kept some in my desk drawer at work. Though it had been three months since Zeebub changed me, I still hated vacuuming the dog hair from my apartment floor every day.

Without warning a meaty hand pushed me and a head close to it garbled a deep, throaty warble that I didn't understand.

'He doesn't like you,' explained his less-crazy-looking friend, sat next to him.

'That's just great,' I told the two of them. The human-looking one was translating for the other guy, who had two big, fleshy growths where his chin ought to be. I don't want to talk about what they made me think of. I tore my eyes back to theirs to add, 'If you stop pushing me and buy me a beer to apologise you might like me a little more.'

The least ugly one laughed. 'You don't understand! We're wanted men! You'd better watch yourself – I have the death sentence on twelve systems!'

This, I thought, was a nice time to use my newfound abilities. I'd never held a scary appearance before, in fact I used to be kind of a looker, so I enjoyed being able to settle arguments by baring teeth. I snarled at the jokers and concentrated real hard until my eyes turned from chocolate-brown to bright red. They actually jumped.

'Give me… a glass… of beer…' I whispered between heavy breaths. It seemed to work, and my eyes stopped glowing.

The foreign-looking gentleman beckoned Ackmena and ordered my second drink. She lent me a mischievous smile as she made it for me. I liked her sense of humour. My new friends scampered away once they'd paid.

'I hope those two weren't bothering you,' the landlady said happily. 'They're just local morons. Try to start a fight every night. One day it's gonna get them in trouble, I bet.'

I muttered agreement and told her I liked the bith musicians they had in for the evening. I regretted it when her eyes lit up.

'Oh you do? They're the house band. Friends of mine too. I sing with them sometimes, actually, on quiet nights.' That sly look returned. I began to wonder if she wasn't hitting on me. Sure I was younger, and we were getting on so far, but was she desperate enough to flirt with a werewolf?

My answer came soon. 'You know, Jim,' the server continued coyly, 'my late husband, rest his soul, was a wookiee.'

'Uh-huh.'

'Ever see a wookiee?'

Luckily I had. I hoped I could draw this discussion to a close quickly. 'Sure,' I told her. 'Tall, hairy guys. Always end up as slaves.'

'That's them. My guy escaped the Empire and came here. Point I'm making is, you needn't feel out of place here. Do you live in Mos Eisley, or are you just visiting?'

'Uhm…' She was making me a little nervous here. 'I just set up shop on the other side of town. Got an apartment and an expensive air-conditioning system. Money's easy here. Everyone's got an eye on everyone else, but no-one can keep an eye professionally. That's where I come in.'

'Sounds like you got this place all figured out, 'cept for your friend Zeebub. So, where exactly are you living?'

I needed to change the subject fast. I went back to the music – I used to play the sax before I wound up as a PI so I had an ear – and this band really knew their stuff. Unfortunately, this revelation got her singing. Before I could stop her, Ackmena stood up on the rounded, carved bar and introduced herself and the bith to the few of us sober enough to hear. In an instant the band struck up what sounded like a jaunty, local tune. It was catchy, it was fun, it was… local. That is until the lyrics kicked in.

I'm not trying to write a traveller's guide here, but if you're ever in an unmarked cantina in Mos Eisley and the landlady tells you she's going to sing 'Just One More Round, Friend' or whatever the hell it was called, get out. It's not that she couldn't sing, it's just that the song was annoying as all hell, and she insisted on dancing with a bemused Rodian, then only after I refused.

Eventually, and it seemed like a lot longer than the length of a song, she stopped and the band went back to their other tune. Three of us clapped politely, two of them just because they were afraid of me. Me, I didn't like the song at all, but the music and the singer were all right. She was the first genuinely nice person I'd met in this town, and I could tell she really wanted to help me with my problem.

She returned to me to fill my glass again after a chat with one of her Bith friends. 'I might have something for you,' she told me in a conspiratorial tone. 'Fi'en there is a medical student at the University…'

I had to interrupt this. 'You people have a University?'

'Well, it's more of a community college. Anyhow, Fi'en knows a professor who might be able to help you – he's an expert on your, uh…' she waved her hand at me boldly, '…condition. His brother Fuzz is a bouncer here sometimes, but you can meet him at his office. Name's Dr. Skwi-Kii McGee, but folks around here just call him Doctor Four-Eyes.'

'Wears glasses?'

She chuckled quietly but gave no answer. I thanked her and tipped her handsomely. As I stood up to leave Ackmena said, in a sing-song voice, 'Come back soon, I'll be waiting.' She didn't even meet my eyes as she said it but somehow, don't ask me how, it really made my ears prick-up. I felt welcome in Mos Eisley, and liked it.

'I bet you say that too all the paying customers,' I joked, and left. That song of hers was still ringing in my ears as I took in the stale air and the unrelenting suns, but my stomach was full, my throat was as wet as my nose and I had, for want of a better word, a lead. It wasn't much, but it was something. And I was getting a hunch that soon I'd have my shiny new teeth in a threatening position over Zeebub's throat.

I knew I was getting close. When I found him, I hoped for his sake and mine that he had some sort of an antidote.