"Twitchy, yeah, a bit." Vin walks over to his rifle sitting near his co-pilots chair and instinctive sights down it. 'Oh the comfort of being armed sometimes.' Then the mag slipped out of the breach and clattered to the ground. "She... is.. good." He chuckles for a moment admiringly to cover his moment of anger. 'It was genuinely amusing to have a Jedi on edge.' As Vin recovers the magazine and points it out to Drael, he smiles. "I'm kinda grateful though, getting told off out there sort got me to thinking." He took a breath and relaxingly let out it. "I've been going about this wrong the whole way. First off.." Vincent deftly reinserts the mag, checks that the breach is clear and arms the safety. "... I am too old fashioned. I'll admit to that. You do things a certain way because it's proper." He gives a side-long glance toward the door. "Sort of like the Jedi I'd hate to say. I'm set in my ways. I hate that alien thing in the other room just cause it ain't human. That's what we were taught. Jedi, senator, or stripper. Wouldn't fucking matter." He inspects the rifle while standing, keeping a rhythm while continuing to speak. "It may be wrong... but it's how I'm geared, you know?" His rifle sways in Drael's general direction with the question and then rapidly adjusts bring it nearer to Vin's face. "It's why I'm not getting ahead. I see that now. These J-Droids..." he examines the muzzle emitters, and slides the rifle down toward the ground "...are changing the game..." only to kick it higher into his hands as he checks the trigger assembly. Still breathing regularly he continues to speak "...and the galaxy along with it. If you can't change, you just die." Finishing his inspection and satisfied with its quality, he rolls the rifle in his hand like a flourish in one of his cadet training drills. "See I answered my own question.." A quick palm strike flips the rifle vertical as he swaps between grips, "...about endgames, and those two Jedi are our tickets out of this mess." and finishes his statement simultaneously as he snaps the rifle stock to the deck with a dull thwack . "Call it insurance if Obrim gets on our tail. Jedi seem to want to dole out their form of 'justice' any time they are around. I'm sure they can be manipulated into making the right choices, I think." Vincent almost has an evil bemused grin, "That's your strength I believe." He sets the rifle against the wedge corner between the console and the wall. "So, no, we're not their friends, but we aren't gonna be vacc-ing them just yet either." Vincent sits down in the co-pilot's seat getting comfortable, waiting for Drael to reply. 'I'm sure he wasn't expecting that.' To be fair Vin hadn't expected that, but it was true all of it. As he saw it, there's no way out of this mess aside from breaking the contract with Obrim, and as much as it ached at him; they were backed into a bloody corner. So he braced himself for the repeated question, he knew Drael was about to ask for the third time.