[center][b][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lexhv8MaXQ8]A good run, of bad luck.[/url][/b][/center]

Grida stood further back from the rest of the group, the rain falling around him and it hung from the rim of his hat like a curtain falling down. It didn't really bother him, he knew that the leather that the hat was made from could hold up to the rain. What bothered him was the wait, it was sloppy to have them all waiting for so long. It was a power play, and power plays were often dangerous. His right hand moved for his pistol as the gunshots starting going off, before Mus came dragging a wounded quarren kicking and screaming into the rain.

At least he knew what kind of woman she was now, for sure at least. This was all for show, she was used to getting her own way and was going to get it one way or another. She was also remarkably loyal to the Hutts and was trying to flaunt her position over them. As the ramp slammed to the ground Grida moved for a crate, lugging it up the ramp following the example of Xymone and Rytthik. Once secured in the hold he decided that that was enough back breaking labour for one day. The ship was as much of a wreck inside as it was out, why the Hutts paid to have it secured at a berth he couldn't quite understand. He didn't know a single thief who would even dream of stealing this, stealing from the Hutts would require a significantly larger pay off. Something like one of the small pleasure cruisers he had seen on one of the other berths would be more like it.

Within a minute he had scoured the ship from top to tail, and due to him abandoning loading the ship he still had time to claim the quarters closest to the escape pod. Once he had whatever mechanism controlled the explosives he'd be able to bolt to a pod before anyone knew what was going on. Obviously he'd need to do so in orbit of a planet, probably just before a jump to hyperspace to prevent pursuit. That however would dramatically decrease his window of opportunity. He'd need to spend time familiarising himself with the ship more before he made his move, see if there was a way to increase his chances of getting away without being vaporized.

Once his 'stuff' (Not that he had much more than the clothes he had on him, a blaster pistol and rifle and a broken carbonite rifle) was stowed he made his way towards the 'kitchen' area of the vessel. Not that it was much of a kitchen, and the grime on all the surfaces probably made anything cooked there toxic. Still needing to get to know and understand his peers, he retreated to the corner, where he sat on a crate. Watching as the others filed in, one by one.