Brin swung his aching legs up from the floor and onto the table in front of him, watching the shoppers and wanderers pass by. He adjusted his belt, letting his blaster slip lower down his thigh, and reached over to grab his cup. He loosened the straps on the top of his boots, as one of the waitresses came over and batted his feet off the counter. He frowned slightly, but apologised, mumbling something into his mug as he pushed his hand into his boot to rub his calf.
His last customer, a minor official from Corellia, had decided to bring along the majority of their belongings, it seemed, and it had taken Brin nearly an hour to unload the many crates and bags which were balanced precariously in the passageway of his ship. It wasn’t a service he would normally provide, but the mountain of containers had been installed on the ship before he had gotten back from the station controllers office. Brin had looked with narrowed eyes at his metallic silver protocol droid, as the grey haired politician pushed a small cage up the entrance ramp containing some sort of strange pet.
“We will discuss this later K-T…” Brin had said as he walked past the droid, “…And will find some way that you can dissuade me from turning you into fancy coffee machine for the galley”. He stomped up the ramp into the corridor and, squeezing past the mass of luggage, headed towards the cockpit.
Brin had tried to be all smiles on the journey to Yavin, but decided half way through the flight that he had finally met his match in the amount of words one individual could produce without breathing. The administrator from Coronet had talked for what seemed like days, about anything and everything, but seemingly, nothing interesting. On several occasions Brin had excused himself to go and ‘check on some warning lights… down there’ and had taken a break from the chatter in the engine room, leaning up the bulkhead and slowly rubbing his temples.
And now, back on the firm ground of Yavin, he had decided that K-T would gain its forgiveness by acting as Brin’s mobile advertising board this afternoon. Normally, they would set up a small stand at the spaceport to attract customers, but today Brin decided he deserved an afternoon off, and K-T needed to pay its penance. As he sat sipping his Corellian brandy at the Mynocks Eye cantina, the droid was stood a few yards off, holding the neon, back-lit flatscreen board that scrolled a poorly drawn copy of the Corellian Eclipse across the screen. The board advertised the transport services that Brin was currently offering…Single Cabins, Good Speeds, All prices negotiable…and now in a slightly different font underneath…NO PETS.
Brin had no deep desire to head anywhere in particular. He had just finished an overhaul of the Eclipse, so she should be good for another couple dozen trips before she’d need any major maintenance again. He began drifting into thought, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes, as the rays of the sun soaked into his skin, and the brandy warmed him from the inside…
“Somewhere sunny again maybe? Hmmm…maybe a river or two? I could go for a swim…"
@LadyRen
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