"Counterfeiter?" Digg guessed.
“Nah,” she smirks, throwing Digg’s pouch of coins in the air.
I’m starting to question my title as a mercenary with the work ethic I have . . . and the ethic I have in general.
"Okay then." Digg replied, pointing his gun at her head.
Ca’tra turned to them. “Digg, please calm down. You, give the pouch back please.”
“Just a joke, come on!” Rasma says, flinging the pouch back to the Shistavanen.
"I am Calm." Digg grumbled.
“I’ve killed many quite calmly,” Rasma brags.
“Right, ‘cause that’s a funny joke. We’re here to get supplies and steal a ship. If you’re gonna be dead weight, we can always leave you here,” he says sternly.
“Dead weight? What makes you call me that?” she wonders.
“Common sense and two functioning eyes.” He continues to walk.
Rasma laughs, patting the Mandalorian on the back.
He points his bes’bev to her neck. “Touch me again, I dare you.”
"Now who needs to calm down?" Joked Digg.
Rasma’s smile disappears, and she stares at the ground, murmuring something about “heartless Hutt-ambassadors”.
He sighs again and continues to walk, getting nearer to the city. “I have a certain hatred for people who are a danger to me. It’s just instinct to take care of them.”
“A pat on the back - A threat to one’s well being. The similarities are uncanny...”
“It’s more that you won’t shut up, honestly,” he says nonchalantly.
“The sound of my voice is one of my favorite sounds in the world. That and the sound of Wookie choking on a womp rat...”
“So yeah, if said narcissist draws attention to us, we’ll never be able to get a ship.”