Plasma: “Hey, it’s okay, I’m not with any gangs. You can talk to me.”
 
Sunnysides: “Yeah, and I’m supposed to believe that. Even If you’re not you’re probably a mercenary looking for your next paycheck. Look I don’t care, I’ll tell you the same thing I told them. Last I saw the poor girl she was headed to the tankard hound, that’s all I know. Now leave my bed and breakfast alone!”
 
He hangs up.
 
Plasma: “At least I know where she’s at. Mystic you wouldn’t happen to have a map of this place would you?“
 
Mystic Spice: “Sure, I keep a few physical copies just in case. Here.”
 
You got a physical map of the station
 
Plasma: “Thanks, and take this.”
 
You give Mystic Spice the rest of your space weed.
 
Mystic Spice: “Well don’t mind if I do. I’ll try some more when I have a day off.”
 
What will you do now?
 
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