Gar Stitt walked silently into the Space Jock, one of the seediest bars on Tybal Station, with a clear head and purpose. The stench of vomit, sex and stale beer was enough to turn the stomach of even the most seasoned bounty hunter, but did little to distract Gar from the task at hand. Fingers laced together behind his back, he stepped easily around a drunk who fell to the floor, blood dripping from his nose where he’d been punched moments before.