Tuco swiped at his nose—a nervous tic of sorts. As loath as he'd be to admit it, when push came to shove, Belloq was apparently capable of making a very compelling argument. Tuco—for all that he was sneaky, conniving and occasionally outrageously brutal—was also a realist. This wasn't home. He couldn't just grab a horse and flee, spitting and cursing. Having already experienced "good treatment" at the hands of Wallace, he wasn't overly keen on the idea of catching Jabba's attention, either.
He pressed his lips together in something that wasn't quite a frown, and stared at the sword. He stared hard, head tilting one way and then the other, looking like he had a pair of his very own animated advisors sat whispering into each ear.
Finally, with a snort: "I like to make friends." He flashed his teeth, meeting Belloq's eyes again. "You need a little help, you come to the right man."
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Tuco swiped at his nose—a nervous tic of sorts. As loath as he'd be to admit it, when push came to shove, Belloq was apparently capable of making a very compelling argument. Tuco—for all that he was sneaky, conniving and occasionally outrageously brutal—was also a realist. This wasn't home. He couldn't just grab a horse and flee, spitting and cursing. Having already experienced "good treatment" at the hands of Wallace, he wasn't overly keen on the idea of catching Jabba's attention, either.
He pressed his lips together in something that wasn't quite a frown, and stared at the sword. He stared hard, head tilting one way and then the other, looking like he had a pair of his very own animated advisors sat whispering into each ear.
Finally, with a snort: "I like to make friends." He flashed his teeth, meeting Belloq's eyes again. "You need a little help, you come to the right man."