I'd just finished a drink and was about ready to make a move when I saw him out of the corner of my eye, a tall, broad man with what looked like a pneumatic loader for an arm. He didn't look to be armed, beyond the obvious large yellow and black metal pile driver wrenched to his side. He reached the bar and looked to be talking to the bartender, probably getting himself a drink. I looked into the bottom of my glass and blinked, suddenly the retinal display appeared, checking the rest of the bar it didn't seem like there anyone to back him up. With that confirmed I stood up and headed for the bar, I put one hand in my pocket and waved the other as if gesturing to the bartender. I then turned to the man.
"Jimmy O'Toole?" I grinned my widest lying bastard grin.
"Yeah, what of it?"
"I've been looking for ya ya cunt!" He squinted as my other hand came down on his back. His eyes grew wide then he tumbled back and started convulsing on the floor.
"Jimmy O'Toole, I'm serving a bounty on you from the Seven Stars Confederacy, you can say anything you like, but I'm not really interested." I pulled a set of restraining manacles out from my back pocket, and they expanded and moulded to fit around both his hand and his power tool.
"Honestly have you any idea how heavy that piece of scrap is gonna make you? I mean honestly." I heard a glass smash then looked up.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing!?" A very angry gentleman with a blue mohawk and a long chain from his nose to his ear was pointing a rather aggressive looking club in my direction. I looked down, then back up.
"Acting out a bounty, from the Seven Stars Confederacy, I think I mentioned that no?" I said as I dragged the compliant lump of flesh and steel up to its feet.
"Not in here you aint!" At that moment I heard the familiar sound of someone cocking a pump action behind the bar, and I leapt to the side very narrowly avoiding the shot as it sprayed out. Something told me there was something slightly sideways about the data I had received on this particular bar.
"I fought in the war, we ain't got no time for you Seven Stars fuckers round here!" The bartender yelled.
As I landed on the other side of an upturned table, "I only feel it prudent to point out that I'm not from the Seven Stars confederacy, merely a freelance bounty hunter." It would appear now as I checked the room I would have the unfortunate joy of battling the whole bar, not a feat that I was feeling particularly prepared for as I checked that I had all the following and they were where they were supposed to be, number one, a fully loaded stun pistol in my left hand, two, a charged stun baton sat just in front of me, and three, a flash bang grenade I'd just tossed over the table. I covered my ears just as it seemed someone was about to remove the cover of my blessed table.