She was glad, even somewhat visibly impressed by his forethought with the drones. Truth be told, he had to fight a smirk with that knowledge... Those pleasant thoughts came grinding to a halt as he nearly choked on his noodles. With a small cough, he barely avoided complete embarrassment, but still took a healthy drink of water.<br/><br/><span style="color: #0080FF">“Karking Dantooine… I can never escape that karking, poodoo filled, drakkarking…”</span><br/><br/>This continues for at least a few seconds, with the expletives growing increasingly more colorful and nonsensical. Eventually, he sighs…<br/><br/><span style="color: #0080FF">“It’s beautiful there, there’s a lot of history… But I’ll be karked if everything out there isn’t trying to kill you…”</span><br/><br/>He bites his lip, very conflicted over his next move. ‘All she wants is the trip, but that planet is one deathtrap after another… But that’s exactly why I don’t want to go, and…’ Abruptly he shakes his head. He sighs, again…<br/><br/><span style="color: #0080FF">“Karking… Anyway, you said it would be a dangerous mission for the pilot, but this sounds really simple… Also, there is no way I am leaving my ship ANYWHERE on Dantooine BUT my old crew’s hangers, and that means we’re going to need to find it. Given that, we need to go to Tatooine; I don’t care how good you are, there are things on that planet that will chew up my starship and spit it out.”</span><br/><br/>He looks down, not fully willing to admit that his rationale is being influenced by a strange level of concern, he picks up his fork and spears one a morsel as well. ‘It’s pretty good… He sure went all out this time.’ Still… he eats slowly, finding no particular pleasure in his actions despite the deliciousness of the food. It’s almost mechanical; he stabs a piece of food, places the morsel in his mouth, chews the same amount of times, each time, and swallows without a single change in expression.<br/><br/><span style="color: #0080FF">“It really is. He’s definitely the best!”</span>He pauses a moment, specifically for effect.<span style="color: #0080FF">“On Corellia, anyway.”</span><br/><br/>The killing intent emanating from the kitchen was practically palpable. A smirk pulls at Brandon’s lips, and he winks slyly at Amara. Moments later, the life fades from his features, the cloud rolling back over his gaze. He continues to eat, silently, until the food in front of him inevitably disappears. Around the same time, his datapad chirps. His gaze rises and locks with Amara's.<br/><br/><span style="color: #0080FF">“The ship's ready to go.”</span>