In the Company of Strangers

[Henry McDonnaught]

The MC18 had handled like a dream. Oh sure, it was no x-wing - didnt have the maneuverability or the speed of his usual craft, but for a rebel transport dressed as a civilian freighter -- she weren't too shabby.

The trip to Bespin had been uneventful. The Black Man had smoothed out any customs gliches or red tape annoyances quite thoroughly, so that Henry 'Donut' McDonnaught and his droid had enjoyed a pleasant and uneventful journey to the System.

Stepping now into the welcoming interior of the Cloud Nine Bar & Grill, Hank almost felt the part he was here to play. Himself, as a civi-cargo pilot stopping in for a drink and dropping off a package. A smile for the pretty waitress here, a shuffle of a chair to the left there and McDonnaught set himself comfortably in a plush lounger at a low table and looked around for a familiar face. But not just any familiar face. The one in Captain Hush-hush-need-to-know-soldier holoprojector's image. Henry felt he knew the man. Not Capt cloak and dagger - no one would ever really know him, Henry was certain - but the wierd lookin little fellow with whom he was supposed to meet.

Cloud City, rest stop for the weary Imperial and other travellers was just like any other bar, really, that Henry might frequent. Except for all the off duty Imperial pilots that is. He guessed he should be nervous, being Alliance and all. But somehow, Henry just couldnt work up any jitters. For some reason, he felt almost at home.

"Corellian beer, please Miss" he added a smile with his request and the waitress nodded indicating that she'd caught both it and his order as she sashayed by, the tray in her hand loaded with empty glasses and balanced perfectly.

"O-kay.." Hank muttered to no one in particular, his eyes roving the premises, "where are you, odd little dude.."