Shyla Ruf was running out of patience. She hated having to explain everything she was planning on doing while away from the ship and what made it worse is that it was an astromech droid demanding her explanations.
"For the last time, Artie, I am not going to get myself in trouble!" she exclaimed, tugging irritably on her shoulder-length blonde braid and glaring at the stuborn little R3 unit. It wheeled forward an inch and issued a flurry of beeps and whistles that Shyla only understood because she'd spent so much time with the droid.
"That was different!" she protested. "How was I supposed to know we'd been hired to transport spice and dealers? The job was cargo and passengers, no questions asked and a helluva paycheck."
The droid didn't seem convinced and made that very clear to Shyla. Her blue eyes widened in alarm.
"Don't you dare!" she exclaimed. "Last time you tried to check inside the cargo, you made a loading droid malfunction... it nearly destroyed the ship. No touch. Leave them alone to do their job."
With an indignant hoot, the droid wheeled its way back into the ship and Shyla breathed a small sigh of relief. "Should have memory wiped him years back," she muttered, heading into the station. She'd never been to the Wheel before, but she'd heard the Black Eye Cafe was a decent place for a little relaxation... and a very strong drink.