I seem to really enjoy posting excerpts.
A thick, meaty reptilian hand blocks my path. My HUD flashes and sets a small target over the face of a scarred Trandoshan. The sandy green reptile dwarfs me in size. And by dwarf I mean he could step on me and not notice the crushed beskar beneath his feet. He has the advantage, and he knows it.
“Whass in deh bag, Mando?” he hisses, his many fangs gleaming in the dull light.
I shrug. “Gar buir hokaan'tehabi kovid,” I tell him.
His eyes narrow as his jaw clenches tight, revealing even more of his fangs. He doesn’t understand. I’m not surprised-most sentients don’t speak mando’a, aside from other Mandalorians. Which is probably a good thing-I don’t think he’d appreciate hearing I have his mother’s head in a bag.