Uncle... what? The blonde was thankful for her helmet. It hid her confusion quite well. If only Lorane had one too, because he looked like he's been slapped. She'd have to talk to him about working on his sabaac face.
"Ah, there you are," she said casually, as if greeting an old friend, "I brought what you wanted. Di'kut tried ta fight me off though. Things got the tiniest bit messy and he shot himself. It's alright though. I patched him up a bit."
The Bothan snorted in her direction. Rawnie did not move a muscle. This one, she knew, had worked with her mother once upon a time. She knew how to handle him. And if he didn't pay up, well, she knew how to deal with that one too. Of course, the little girl present told her that she really wouldn't have to worry about it.
"So, I think our deal was eight thousand. Split two ways now, so four thousand each."
"He's damaged," the bothan snorted, "You get half."
"The deal was dead or alive," she reminded him, hand falling casually to her vibroblade handle, "He ain't dead, is he?"
[member="Doctor Azure"]