Mechanic Deoriks waves you over, a stack of datapads heaped precariously in the crook of one elbow.

"Good news, latest shipment's just in. Riliks told me to reserve a portion of it for you in thanks for your efforts last week. Spider's holding onto it for you."

She clacks her mandibles. "Don't love Spider getting his greasy hands on our stuff, but Riliks says we gotta pick our battles sometimes. And in this case, victory is meditating on the lovely warm memory of Spider's barge exploding."