Upon hearing the question Kameron asked over the intercom, Larasen flicked the switch and practically mumbled "stand by."  While he was familiar with basic technology and could read a gauge as well as any man, (especially one with alleged Durese blood), Larasen was no ship engineer.  Fortunately, he didn't have to know how to maintain a ship in order to program another droid to do it.  Fortunately, the Imperial Army always had old droids that could be bought by those properly vetted individuals, and Larasen, who separated under honorable conditions and had held a job as a licensed technician working for a legal swoop bike team had been able to purchase some totaled droids for little more than the scrap value.  Government waste was a constant across all systems.<br/><br/>He checked the display on the astromech he had plugged in to the engine room panel and cycled through a menu.  The droid lacked a vocabulator as well as the ability to process verbal commands.  It had been purchased as a less personality-ridden means to assist on capital ships, then scrapped for being...inadequate, but could handle simple tasks like monitoring the systems of a mid-size freighter.  As he messed with that, the "offer" of a sandwich caught him off-guard, and turned to see the blue-skinned twi'lek standing over him.  "Thanks," he said curtly, more than a bit uncomfortable with her proximity combined with how she'd slapped down the plate of food.  When she set her hand on his shoulder, he stiffened, though not in the fun way.  While, in theory, he was completely okay with her touching him, he hadn't figured out what to make of her.<br/><br/>"Uh, no...thanks," he responded to an offer that was, by his judging of her tone, equally likely to be a threat.  He turned back to the droid and checked the status, then flipped the intercom.  "I think it's doing about as much as I'd trust it to do."