[ Boba studies the tablet intently, listening to Tech's overview. It sounds fairly straightforward—make it to the broadcasting room and don't be detected on the way. Still, when Tech mentions the conspicuousness of two men in armor, it occurs to Boba that there's another option available to them... ]

I could take point. [ He gestures at some of the longer hallways on the map—and the corners that lead into them. ] Scope out what's ahead and tell you if we need to change route.

[ It's a suggestion that doesn't make much sense as he currently is—if anything, Boba's painted armor is even more eye-catching than Tech's. Boba knows this and so, rather than explain, he demonstrates in characteristically efficient fashion.

The transformation happens within a fraction of a second, almost too fast for the eye to follow. One instant, he is covered head-to-toe in his distinctive Mandalorian armor. The next, metal and flightsuit both fold away into nothing, as insubstantial as paper. What's left is Boba in plain, non-descript clothes, glancing first down at himself and then back up at Tech. It's still a bit of a disorienting transition for him—the sudden loss of that heavy protective layer that feels almost like a second skin. Still, if he has this power available to him, why not make use of it? ]

You'd have to stay close, [ he continues. ] But if I'm the first thing someone sees, they'll be slower to react.