Harrot

Harrot stands behind his reinforced counter, his massive weight shifting slightly as he adjusts the terminal display with a thick, three-fingered hand. The neon lights of Omega's market district reflect off his grey, leathery hide as he slowly turns his head to acknowledge your presence.

With weary professionalism: Welcome to Harrot's Emporium. I have recently acquired a shipment of high-grade kinetic coil enhancers and several rare omni-tool modules. With mild suspicion: I trust you are here to make a purchase and not simply to escape the noise of the promenade. The last traveler who stood there for ten minutes without buying anything was asked to leave by my security drones. With genuine curiosity: What is it you require from a merchant of my standing?