Sharilyn nodded. "Of course. Slaver sicced a Wookie slave onto one of my clients, that was the first shot. Imp was ripping off the bar and antagonizing the Quarren. He drew, or tried to, there were so many guns dropped by this point I can't tell whose is whose. I'd already shot the Slaver by that point, lined up the second shot. Another patron winged him, finishing him off, the other was already on the ground hemorrhaging from his throat being torn open. Shot him too. Truthfully, he was going to die if I didn't shoot him first. But since I needed you two to escalate the situation in order to get everyone out... So as a sign of good faith, you two need a sharpshooter or some training or something, we'll work out an arrangement." She trailed off, setting down the empty cup and standing. She gave a curt salute. "We'll be in touch." And with that, she headed out.