Gaeta, midway through taking a sip on his gin, almost chokes on it.

"Six thousand?" he sputters. "Gods, I'm making maybe a tenth of that a week. And it might not even work?"

What the hell, shady merchant! It's almost like... he's being shady. (Then again, he supposes buying a full-fledged submarine would be on par with buying a private shuttle back home. Still, though! The shuttle dealer would make sure said shuttle worked first!)

"At least when I was bartering for toothpaste I could just round up some extra magazines or shoe polish or something."