If Rey’s looking for a menu, she won’t find one anywhere. While there are other shadowy figures clustered at the other end of the bar, their plates don’t seem to have anything on them. The saloonkeeper—just as vague and nebulous as the other “people”—has his back to them, so it looks like she’ll have to summon him if she wants some food.

Firo, meanwhile, seems to have nearly forgotten about the food. Hunger is a constant to him, so now it takes a backseat to the more acute worry of possible immediate death or harm. She knows him? It can’t have been anything good.

Of course, he can’t ask for the names of her sources if she really is a criminal. That would just mark him as a nosy kid to be eliminated. So, instead, he decides to feel her out in the other direction. He frowns at her, “Are you a cop?”