For an observant guy, sometimes Mirko is pretty frackin' blind. I give him a look of exasperated patience--raised eyebrows, wide-eyes, slack jaw--and take another sip of my drink.

The truth is, Coruscant was getting to be kinda confusing. I mean, okay, so I grew up there and had a pretty comfortable niche all carved out and all. It wasn't maybe the most honest life, but, y'know, who has that nowadays anyway, right? It worked, is the bottom line. Me'n the boys woke up every day, which is an accomplishment in 'n of itself in those neighborhoods.

So changing lanes all sudden like takes a bit of getting used to. I ain't moving up to the surface anytime soon and that poses something of a problem. Like, is knowing crap about scuzzballs and not doin' anything about it violating some, y'know, rule? What if the scuzzball is a friend? How about if maybe you help him out once in a while? I mean, it ain't easy to just stop dabblin' in the illegal puddles if they've been your pool for years.

A change of scenery to clear the mind, is exactly what I need. A place where I ain't gonna be recognized and where I can just ease up. Mirko, whether he means to or not, attracts a certain kind of character. The kind that don't much like attention. My kind of folk.

"I figure you'n me could do a grand tour, Mirko. We always seem to have adventures." And I got some 'cargo' that I want to get rid of before I go back home. "Who knows, maybe we'll come across some real action. Ma-aybe uncover somethin' that'll impress a certain Ciz."

That oughta hook 'im, even if it ain't exactly true.