Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

-Clear. -Clear.
You think the Empire stops to catch its breath?
Well, that's always the way, isn't it?
It’s a potent question
Taste of home, eh? I'll have one.
(CLICKING)
More likely it's the ISB working her radio.
-MAN 3: Who? -MAN 1: Veemoss!
It's not complaining if you tell me what's going on.
Perrin.
-He can't just not turn up. -He'll be here.
What? What's that?
(GRUNTS)
Boots, sandals, everything on the floor!
That's your name, isn't it?
Top table wins flavor.
(WHOOSHES)
I'm Jemboc. Welcome.
Where were you? I was about to come lookin'.
(DISTANT BEEPING)
MAARVA: I'm not going.
If I have to use it, you'll remember it.
-People must be talkin' about it. -About what?
Last place gets fried.
Those days are over.
Anto Kreegyr.
Keef Girgo.
Coordinate alternatives for Segra Milo.
-Mon is working. -Well, there's much to be done.
Anticipating that, I will inform the Bureau of Standards
MAN 1: I don't care, man. You rail here at night, I got no sympathy.
MAN 1: He railed it!
Was I insane?
So, the evening's agenda?
Watch what I do, exactly what I do.
I was planning on calling you in to fill some gaps in the report.
Let's take the long way around.
Jem thinks Kino's in charge.
You have engaged the curiosity of the ISB.
I need votes to stall the Emperor's latest overreach.
Cold now.
Why?
The quality of that time will be up to you.
Can't just stay here.
As was the custom.
She fell.
Learning to love Coruscant.
This may be the last fresh air we ever taste.
Cassian.
Knowing he's out there, knowing me, not knowing what he knows.
Everything you need here is on the wall.
Overreactive, but...
-What's up? -I need to look for something in the back.
Series Nine Spectrum surveillance, local agent funding, Code Droid.
ANNOUNCER: Five-Two-D shift productivity levels are unacceptable.
FONDOR DROID: Calculating.
I'll be feeding the table so it might be a little different...
Lost!
Name.
-You don't, I won't sell. -I work alone.
Shut it down.
It's clear you need Andor in order to find his partner.
-(CHUCKLES) -(BIX LAUGHS)
(DIGITAL BEEPING)
-You signed it. -I was given no choice.
-INGENUE: To visit? -No, Mon became a Senator at 16.
(INDISTINCT CHATTER)
So, we've given up on hiding it?
She has p-p-pain in the knee.
I said, step off, now!
Tell me, what's not in Lieutenant Blevin's report that I need to know?
-He won't. -ULAF: He's done it before.
I've never really known.