Private Baa Baa Black Banthas

[Skeevi Merrill]

"In y'fukkin dreams."

Ah feth, he was talking about getting thrown, wasn't he. Punted. Yote, as the youths on Denon used to say. With that as the primary, uh, vector in mind, Skeevi found themself freshly motivated to generate some alternatives. They noted also - with a mix of irritation and respect - that Demias Shamalain had exactly zero shame about being dead weight.

None of the assorted wares in Skeevi's coat provided a clear or easy route over the fence. Well, there was the thermal detonator, but that would give Demias an easy route too, and Skeevi was not inclined to provide it. Nor did Skeevi want to trek back around to scam their way through the distribution gate.

"Know what could breaka fence? Jedis."

 

[Demias Shamalain]

"It'll be fun," he assured them, "you just tuck yer head between yer knees and I-" ah damn. Apparently they were allergic to fun. What was the point of being small and portable if you couldn't be yeeted for lucrative opportunities?

Demias sighed, stared at the fence, contemplated his ability to break it without roasting his chestnuts, and quickly dismissed the thought. He just might be able to clear it with a Force Assist... after some internal mathematics, guesswork, and imagination he felt pretty convinced that he could.

"Jedi ... with their laser swords," his hand lifted to scratch at a stubble-free chin. Involving the Jedi was hugely risky and, frankly, inevitable, but he had hoped to stave off their attention as long as he could. Once the Jedi knew they were here, even if they did manage to get past them and steal a shuttle, they'd alert the host ship well before they could reach it. If they could get to the ship and launch unawares, that would give them at least a few minutes head start. Maybe longer.

"So you want us to call ahead and announce our arrival? That's what I call a shiit shoot."

He stared at Skee pointedly, mimed the action of tossing, stared some more.