Image #2,742: Wren Grimstone (Old Republic Era)

A look of wide-eyed amusement swept over the brute's features. Tauntingly, “What're you off on, foreign son? This isn’t some back alley dive on Nar Shaddaa or sommat. You’re in the bleedin’ heart of Imperial space n--” His words were interrupted by the thick sound of knuckles connecting with flesh and bone, and the man staggered backward, disoriented.

“I'll do it for seven fifty.” The somewhat nasally-pitched voice belonged to a wiry human girl whom Verso figured to be about sixteen. At a casual glance, she didn’t look like much. Bony, slight of frame, common tomboyish face with a long faded scar across her nose. Verso wouldn’t have appraised her as the sort that would rise to the occasion, though sizing her up now, he noted a sort of spastic enthusiasm for violence circulating throughout the kid’s nervous system; a live wire.

Verso guffawed, dropping the man to his knees with a well-placed blow to the gut. “Bartering is usually meant to happen before you fulfill the contract."