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Returns PBF - In Character

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Xander Morhaime:
"My ass already did rot away last time I was here, thank you. In the very literal sense," the clone replied coldly. "A merchant and retinue idea is good, perhaps... but you've already shown you are far too unstable to play the lead. It won't look good if I have to punch you back to sense again. I believe we do have someone who could play the part convincingly, however..." the clone's head now turned to the Jedi.

Gargulec:
'Of course, I can play the merchant' said the Jedi. 'Just take this' she pointed at her collar 'off me.'

Xander Morhaime:
"Ah, yes. That is a bit of a problem there," CX said, shaking his head. "I would need some form of assurance that you wouldn't go and throw me out of this ship through every solid bulkhead left in place the moment I took it off. Although, hmm..." the clone looked over at the rebel, the tone of his voice suggesting a big grin under his helmet. "Smuggler, Mandalorian muscle, and collared slave... we should fit in just perfect," he said with a nod, turning to the Jedi once more. "I just need a promise that we'll be working together, at least until we're out of this hell of a planet."

Silhar:
"Unstable ? Try being stable with a tiggerhappy dark trooper on your back, dammit !", barked West Jr. with a bitter smile appearing on his face. "Not to mention that fraggin' toxine in my veins, of course... Well, whatever.", Vince calmed down in a split-second, seeing the Jedi looking at him. He grunted gently.
"Alright. We've got a merchant and her bodyguard. It would be nice if you took that piece of metal off her neck. This just sort of does not fit too good, tu sais."
After a while, he stopped being calm. When the trooper spoke his mind, that is.
"Yo, keep your sadomasochistic toys outta me, right ? All of you have some wierd dreams about collared slaves, alright ? Hands off, prick.", drawled the Rebel. "Cultural attache, good, trade consultant, even better. Nobody pays attention to slave's words - this way you wouldn't be able to use my talents in negotiations. We would sell the damned thing - at least few creds for beginning would help much better than your feeling of safety. You really don't have to worry about your rotten ass, trust me. I am ill, both on flesh as on fate, and she, it seems, " - he nodded at the Jedi - "does not believe in violence..."

Xander Morhaime:
"You don't look the part of a diplomat," the clone pointed out. "And as for the collar... well, we could always cover it up with a scarf of one sort or another, if we don't take it off..."

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