"So this is it then?" the captain asked, almost panicking. "Nar Shaddaa?"
"Good place to find a new job," Alindra D'Ayarra answered cheerfully. "And a good place for you to find a new pilot."
"I'm loosing the best pilot in the galaxy and you expect me to go grab some refugee out of the slums?" the captain complained. Aly muttered a string of Old Corellian curses.
"You're captain of a bulk freighter," she snapped. "Your ship practically flies itself. Your idiot gunners, the mechanic, and your hired muscle could fly it. Your protocol droid could fly it. Hell, I'd say even you are qualified to fly the damn thing and quite frankly, I don't hold a high view on your intelligence."
"But none of us are licensed to fly," the captain complained.
"And my patience is growing thin," Aly told him. "I don't care what you do. My contract with you is expired and there's no way in nine hells you're getting me to renew it."
With that, she stalked off, leaving the puzzled captain alone to wonder exactly how much she'd just insulted not just his ship, but himself and his crew as well.