The tavern patrons came, ate, drank, chatted, laughed, and left. Over and over; the pattern repeating, the patrons marking their time in specific increments.
Suen was visibly shaken. She was clearly not happy to be here, but perhaps more than that, she seemed confused.
The wind of the early evening howled as the open-top, 4-seat aircar jetted into the oncoming night.
The morning exploded in thunder and the screeches of palm-sized, winged mammals as they took flight.
Shake Hands was a planet on the cool side, occupying an outer position of its sun's circumstellar habitable zone. While cold at times, it wasn't completely intolerable. Even overnight.
"Yes, ma'am," Deshel said. "Suen, give me a local structure report."