Location: Ord Cantrell
"I don't know where she is!" the diminutive vendor yelled.
Morgan glanced over the edge of the work surface behind which a small blue-skinned humanoid was cowering. The numerous marks around the alien's mouth and nose marked it as a chem user and a prolific one. "You've got the same dealer. I'll take their location or contact." he grabbed them by the back of their coat and hauled them up on top of their work surface with an easy motion of his right harm.
"You're pissing me off." he sneered. He pulled out his Peacemaker from its holster and wedged it under the humanoid's chin. "I'm going to count to five. After then, my trigger fingers going to start getting twitchy." He shifted his weight to bear down on his captive's chest.
"The contact, now." he reminded the humanoid, releasing the safety catch of his pistol and starting to put pressure on the trigger as he began to count down from five.
With only a few seconds of hesitation, his captive blurted out a stream of numbers. Morgan released his grip and stepped back.
"There, that wasn't so hard."
"Go fu -"
"Can it slime-ball."
"Unk!"
The humanoid toppled backwards over his workstation as Morgan planted his fist firmly into its face, cutting them off mid-sentance. "You're lucky I don't ice you." he spat, turning away from the whimpering vendor, and tracing the contact he had been provided.
"I don't know where she is!" the diminutive vendor yelled.
Morgan glanced over the edge of the work surface behind which a small blue-skinned humanoid was cowering. The numerous marks around the alien's mouth and nose marked it as a chem user and a prolific one. "You've got the same dealer. I'll take their location or contact." he grabbed them by the back of their coat and hauled them up on top of their work surface with an easy motion of his right harm.
"You're pissing me off." he sneered. He pulled out his Peacemaker from its holster and wedged it under the humanoid's chin. "I'm going to count to five. After then, my trigger fingers going to start getting twitchy." He shifted his weight to bear down on his captive's chest.
"The contact, now." he reminded the humanoid, releasing the safety catch of his pistol and starting to put pressure on the trigger as he began to count down from five.
With only a few seconds of hesitation, his captive blurted out a stream of numbers. Morgan released his grip and stepped back.
"There, that wasn't so hard."
"Go fu -"
"Can it slime-ball."
"Unk!"
The humanoid toppled backwards over his workstation as Morgan planted his fist firmly into its face, cutting them off mid-sentance. "You're lucky I don't ice you." he spat, turning away from the whimpering vendor, and tracing the contact he had been provided.