The cantina--not-so-cleverly named "The Water Hole"--was thriving with life. Gorg wasn't so sure why this took him by surprise. He must have assumed that the poor would have better things to spend their quaves on but from the looks of things this place was the spending destination of choices. The tables were generously spread throughout the establishment but every square inch in between was occupied by every manner of rough-looking individual.
A sharp bone from someone's body connected directly with Gorg's sternum so hard it launched him back several yards into a pack of large, imposing individuals. "Watch it!" One of them snapped at Gorg as he shoved Gorg back in the direction he came from.
"Sorry," Gorg muttered to himself. More and more he was thinking that this might have been a bad idea. Now was the time he could still turn back and it wouldn't be too late. As of yet he had not committed any crimes against his government. He could go back home now to his comfortable home and comfortable job and no one would be the wiser.
No. If I turn back now there will be no home to go back to eventually.
Well, that wasn't entirely true, his more cowardly half reasoned. Your home would simply be under Imperium jurisdiction. And you would probably be able to keep your job.
Snared in the grips of indecision, Gorg did not even notice the breathtakingly beautiful female until she asked with a smile, "You look a bit lost. Can I get you anything?"