There's a funny thing about pirating: as much as you call your ship your home, as much as you never want to leave, eventually you gotta make port. Supplies and all that. Doing that sort of thing, picking where to go, that sort of dren was left up to the Captain. Good thing too. If it was left up to the rest the lot would probably fly around endlessly until their fuel burned up and their systems burned out and that wouldn't be any good. Well, at least as far as the crew of the Red Sky were concerned. Morons, the lot of them, content to follow orders and get their share of credits and throw it away on whores and booze.

Most of them anyway. The Captain had half a mind, a Weequay who had grown up on the run, man with nothing to lose who picked up on the pathetic masses he ran across and scooped them up into service in the rather illustrious career of being a space pirate. Crap job, crap hours, crap pay, crap for brains... yeah, they fell for it.

Not that Lesai was much better, but it wasn't the credits or the fame or the booze she was in it for. It came to much simpler exploitations. You could hurt people as a pirate and most of the time you got away with it. Not that making people scream was exactly all she was in it for, but it provided a rush no amount of spice was going to contend with. Fun and games. It made the Captain of the Red Sky nervous, made the rest of the crew leave her be, and that basically let her do what she wanted... within reason, of course.

So when it all came down to it, whereas the Captain ordered most of the crew when to get back to the ship after touching down on Nar Shaddaa and had given a few of them errands to run, with Lesai it was almost more of a request. The Captain knew damn well if a better deal came along the woman would be off and running elsewhere, but she had her uses and those uses were worth keeping around. She wasn't referred to as their Seer for nothing. Not that Lesai told fortunes or any of that dren, but most of the crew didn't know that. The less they knew the better.

As the crew went about their temporary parting of ways, a small group naturally went off in search of the nearest bar, Lesai followed. And when the others found a table to take over for the night, she went to the bar directly. Sitting with them would only have resulted in the lot returning to the ship for a trip to the medic, and sitting in a booth in the shadows resulted in poor service and far too much intrigue.

Of course sitting at the bar meant you had to order something too, which left Lesai with a small piece of flimsi in hand that had the general list of what was available. The bar tender only had to be glared at once or twice to let him know she'd order when she was damn well ready to.