The door of the dimly lit bar creaked open, and in stepped a man whose presence seemed more shadow than substance. Kolar wasn’t the most social man, made more obvious by the fact he was using ‘valuable’ holodeck time to create his own bar scene when there was a perfectly good social area on board.

He moved with a deliberate calm, each step a whisper against the worn wooden floor, his gait put slightly off by the heavy six shot revolver he wore slung low on his hip. The murmur of conversation hushed for a moment as the regulars glanced up from their drinks, their curiosity piqued by this unexpected guest. With a slight nod to the bartender, the quiet man slid onto a stool at the far end of the bar, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the neon signs above. He ordered a drink with a low, almost inaudible voice, his demeanor a blend of mystery and solitude. The bar resumed its rhythm, but the man remained an enigma, a silent observer in the tapestry of the night.