"Corona Lords." Leila scowls and sighs, the sound laden with annoyance. "There's a story. Second ones to team up with us. They do a lot of the heavy lifting around here. That forgemaster thraggen in there? Yeah, he's one. Big fucking pushovers, all of them. They're all about fiery machismo and slurping roids. Their piracy antics consist of hiding near suns, so they wear more cooling rigs than anything. Oh yeah, might have seen that maniac dog woman patrolling around the ship. And her boss, the leithan that hangs around it. Those brokebrain dicklickers always give me shit when I come through here. Anyway, you want to make sure you have some sort of heat resistant gear around them. That huskar carries a flamethrower. Yes, a fucking flamethrower.{ silly: John Carpenter must have had influence in writing this shithole.} Lunatics."
// pc Defeated Forgehound
"Took care of the big man," you wink, describing your fight with the Forgehound, and how you sent him packing back to his masters. Leila is, of course, quite pleased with the story, giving a wry, respectful smile.
"Wish I could have seen it, y'know? Please tell me you -"
He's not dead.
"Come the fuuuuck oooon," she rolls her eyes, delivering the line with signature flair. "You're too fucking soft, [pc.name]."
{bimboKindMisch Maybe, but it's why she's talking to you, isn't it?/ broHard: Who is she to say you didn't give him nightmares?}
No answer. You'll take that as a win.
// merge
Scratching the back of one ear, Leila's eyes dim thoughtfully. "Whatever. You don't see many of them because they tend to hang around their own ships. Zheng Shi is useful to them but not as much as, say, those rats. Or us."