Sev awoke in a haze of bleary fatigue and confusion. Had he left the ship yet?  Surely he had - why else would there be a large-breasted Twi’lek in his face?  Must have been some night, he decided. He didn’t remember<i>any</i>of it.  But then, she tapped herself on the chest. ”Jiljoo,” she declared, “Alythra friend.”<br/><br/><i>Aleethra?</i>he wondered muzzily.<i>That doesn’t sound like a Twi’lek patronymic...</i>. Then he hissed in pain as she jabbed him in the chest.<br/><br/>“You hurt Alythra, Jiljoo hurt you,” she chirped brightly, before kissing him on the forehead.<br/><br/>“Look,” he groaned, rolling his tongue around the Ryl syllables, “I have no intention of harming her.”  He knew he’d never pass for a native speaker - even without lekku, his accent was strong - but most sentiments appreciated it if you tried to speak their language. “I just need to arrange payment, and I’ll be out of her hair.”  Grunting and straining, he sat up and immediately began batting the droid’s hand away. “Go away,” he insisted in Basic. “I don’t need a sedative.”<br/><br/>Actually, he probably did. Rest was important after a severe injury, in order to let the bacta work. But he had no desire to lie helpless in a strange ship. Especially when he was broke and in debt. “So... Jilljoo, was it?” he continued in Ryl, moving one hand in an approximation of the lekku-gesture for friendliness. “Would you help me find my gear?  That way, I can go and get things taken care of.”