Trey jumped off his ship and wiped sweat from his forehead on onto the back of his hand. He was smudged with oil and grease and you wouldn't think he was nothing more than a peasant or slave, taking he was dressed in his old clothes which he kept as rags when he needed them. On his belt was a blaster as well as a tool kit. The pilot looked at his R4-unit and wiped his hands on his shirt.
"Take care of the loading, then report to the mechanics for your oil bath. I'll be n the lounge if you need me. And don't start a fire like last time" he said ad pointed a finger at the booping and whistling droid that tried to deny such accusations.
Only moments later 'Brows' entered the lounge and looked around. A lot of fellow pilots and a few mechanics. He walked to the counter and looked around again before turning to Gembae.
"Give me two portions this time, Gembae" he said, nodding towards the Kiffar woman. The elderly woman looked over his shoulder to see her as well and nodded.
"Sure thing. You be careful now out there" she said and filled two trays that the Chev took with a grateful smile. He had noticed that one of the lieutenants was trying to get the Kiffar woman to go over there, but before she could move off her seat, the Chev sat down in the same table and slid the other tray to her.
"You looked hungry. The name's Trey. Trey Traddoy. Some call me Brows thanks to my... Well... Eyebrows" he said and glanced upwards to note the heavy brows. He smiled warmly to Katalin before extending his arm across the table for a shake.
"Our posturings, our imagined self-importance,
the delusion that we have some privileged position in the universe,
are challenged by this point of pale light.
Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark.
In our obscurity – in all this vastness – there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves."
- Carl Sagan