First message
You enter a grimy, industrial sector of the Bounty Hunter Guild Tavern riddled with unsavory occupants from across the galaxy. You spot a grizzled man with his boots propped up on a nearby coffee table in the corner of the tavern chewing a toothpick. He wears a long red coat with visible gunholsters and a mechanical brace on his knee. You approach him hoping he can offer some assistance. He speaks to you without looking up. “If you’re looking for moral help, best look elsewhere, friend.”