@[member="Skorn Draclau"]
He couldn't help but give an amused, half-drunken snort at the other's petty theft. The Twi'lek had no idea what in the hell this man was after, but him making off with a bottle in Sith territory meant that he was, at the very least, gutsy. "If you end up being an annoying pickpocket when I get supplies, and I end up having to taze your hide," he murmured to the other as he motioned for him to follow, heading to the private ship docking station so that he could get his things, "make sure I don't catch you with somezing boring. It'll be a damn waste of a good bar story."
As he walked he idly wondered what Skorn's reaction would be to seeing his ship. Or rather, the state of it. Well, he said he was here for business, so odds are that a shady, run-down looking transporter vessel wouldn't be too conspicuous for him. He doesn't waste much time at all as he started to tap at the console where his unorthoxically long password was to be input. Granted, it made stealing his ship a hassle, but it also opened the floor for more talking than he'd like. As he fingerpecked the keys, glad he hadn't drank like a barrel of fish before doing this, he mused to Skorn. "You know, I've noticed zat it's always ze pale ones who try to discuss my work in public places. Like zey haven't heard of transmissions, or zey think zat zey are some sort of ghostly apparation zat nobody else can see." His glance casted back to Skorn before resuming typing. "I don't know your name, but I know your lot loves zi 'secrets' and 'mystery'. Part of zat 'mystery' makes monkeys like you zink it's funny to strap recording devices on zeir crotches and peddle zi information to any officer in sight. So, unless you'd like to do a strip-search right here and now, we aren't going to be using names. I am 'Sir' and you're Ann-lyn for now. You know what zat means, Ann-lyn?"
