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Sometimes I like to imagine Eli using his various colloquial backwater planet slang just to confuse Thrawn.
Eli Vanto: Y’all Ensigns need to quit fartin’ around and get back to work.
Thrawn: I don’t smell anything. Nor do I detect elevations in heat emanating from——
Eli Vanto: Thrawn and I are fixin’ to catch us a Nightswan.
Thrawn: I do not understand what is broken in our pursuit of the figure known as Nightswan.
Eli Vanto: I reckon there’s a lot of doonium on the planet down yonder.
Thrawn: The geological evidence would suggest so.
Eli Vanto: That Cap’n Rossi’s a little big for her britches, but that’s just my two-credits.
Thrawn: I do not understand. The woman is of average build for her sex.
Eli Vanto: Hold your fathiers there Officer Faro, Thrawn’s doin’ his crazy art-military-genius thing.
Thrawn: I do not possess ownership of any fathiers Officer Vanto, now please be quiet so I may concentrate.
Eli Vanto: I’ve got a hankering there’s more to this doonium thing than meets the eye.
Thrawn: Who’s eye? Your eye? I do not detect any irritation?
Eli Vanto: You’re ornery and yer gonna get yerself court-martialed.
Thrawn: On the contrary, I am in complete control of the situation and find your sentiments to be Krayt spit.
Eli Vanto: Dang Thrawn, that Umbaran artwork sure is perdy!
Thrawn: It suggests certain patterns of hostility unique to their race.
Eli Vanto: Dang nabbit Thrawn! Another court-martial?!
Thrawn: …Perhaps.
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