Bulthos hated Trid. Hated it. So when his contact there agreed to take the merchandise off his hands - even if it was less than the agreed sum - the old pirate could barely contain his glee, and glee was not something he carried around in ample supply.
"Lads," he'd said through the comlink, "ge' 'er burnin' an' I'll be 'round in abou' fifteen. No dallyin' abou', no' the now."
Not that Bulthos was against a dalliance or two, of course; some of his favorite entertainers were on Danuta, in some of the seediest dives even a vice-seeking pirate like himself had ever seen. But in the coming here and for the deal recently struck, Bulthos Dorrir and the crew of the Dark Dove had unknowingly knocked over a Republic freighter. They weren't exactly in the Republic's good graces right now, and for such an ineffective government, they somehow always knew where to find who they were looking for, inter-space treaties and agreements be damned.
The older man was on a mission. And so focused was he on his task that he almost ran over a small, red-haired woman. He came to a dead stop to avoid the collision, almost toppling himself in the process.
"Oi!" Bulthos shouted, more out of surprise than anything, "y'wanna see abou' takin' a look-see where you're steppin' or're ye fine jus' lumpin' 'ither an' yon like an oaf?!"
The man's tone of voice was rhetorical, but he stopped to glare at the young woman, silently demanding an answer.
[member="Gasus Hewhen"]
