"It's Fives. The name is Fives."

That comes as a mixture of relief and hesitance, wondering who this person was, and what they were doing that didn’t require haste, but did require the stealth of a smuggler’s ship. Sure, everyone had their own business, these days, and he kept to himself as much as he could, but this was strange. Very, very, very strange. He tried to avoid strange things these days, as best he can in his line of work. Being careful kept him alive. Still, backing out now, and so suddenly, would make him memorable, and that was a bad thing to be in this day and age. 

“I can do thirty,” he said, shifting his weight in his seat before nodding down to the little droid at his side, who whistled in response.

“Guess we’ll meet you in front of your ship, then?”

His knuckles tapped the table as he stood, “Works out perfectly.” 

Fives didn’t take long to disappear from sight, mostly by leaving the cantina. He’d been specifically looking for someone heading in the same direction as his other passenger, it’d been extremely lucky to be heading toward the main planet of the moon he was taking her to. There was something a little curious about this new passenger, but he stopped asking questions to strangers a long time ago. It was a quick moment that he informed his other passenger of their guest, she seemed unenthusiastic but told her hunting partner to be nice. “Anything you can do about the smell?” He teased her before leaving to get the ship ready to leave as soon as the docking clearance was active.

Ah, well, that little tidbit of information sunk in like a mud-covered stone, and he felt the muscles of his left hand tense just slightly. But, he supposed that it made sense that this spacer would try to take as many passengers as he could, to maximise the profit, but the fact that it had been dropped upon him so suddenly didn’t sit very well with the former Jedi. He rested his hand on R7′s dome, turning his head ever-so-slightly to the side.

“As long as it’s not an Imp, I’ll play nice.” He shrugged, pushing his hand through his hair. If they were, then he would bolt, find a new way off this rock, and carry on from there. He wasn’t in the mood to test his so-called ‘luck’.

“And, as long as it doesn’t slow us down, too much. Clients don’t like waiting.”

An Imp, Fives knew his other passenger would be insulted by the accusation, so he wouldn’t mention it to her. And gold eyes watched his new passenger closely, “She’s in no rush to get where she’s going.” He kind of liked the company of transporting passengers, they gave him someone to talk to. 

Brow raised and eyes narrowed at the newfound pilot’s curiosity, and scarred arms crossed over his chest in quiet defensiveness.

“Yeah, how much do I have to pay you to not ask questions?” He tosses a handful of credits on the table, leaning back until his chair was balanced on its back legs and he was staring up at the ceiling. He was well aware of how terrible the slugfest was going to be, as if it were ever a pleasant place to visit; as if he were any happier about going there than his pilot. “Let’s call it a business matter, and leave it at that, yeah?” A horribly illegitimate business matter, but that had stopped ‘mattering’ a long time ago. Anything for a handful of credits, for enough to get a decent meal and a better than decent drink; anything to ease his senses and let his thoughts quiet and the Force feel a bit less muddled, even if it was only for a while…

His eyes flicked down to his glass when his habit was mentioned, brow popping up in dull curiosity before he shrugged and downed the rest. It was a fair enough rule, he supposed; he was paying for a flight, not a cruise liner. The additional remark had curiosity piquing for different reason, though he told himself he probably shouldn’t go poking around himself after just insisting that the stranger mind his own. Still, there was something about that sentence, or perhaps about the way it was said, that nagged at the back of his mind. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he knew that it was going to bother him for a long time. Setting his glass down with a dull thud, he stared at the other for a long moment before he relented with a sigh and glanced to the shipyard, squinting to peer through the filthy viewport and shifting his position to see if he could get a glimpse of the ship from where he sat. Eventually, his fidgeting proved successful, and he let out a hum.

“Nice looking ship,” he said, settling into a comfortable position once again. “Must take good care of it.”

He caught the tone and he smirked, he couldn’t help it. “Technically, I could ask any question I wanted, and you are not required to answer.” 

Fives stood, grabbing his jacket and shrugging it on, “She was a gift. I don’t want them to think I’m ungrateful for everything.” He started to walk away, then turned, “Ah.. if you have a preference, I can drop you off first. My other passenger is going to one of the moons, so it is luck that we’ve met.” If he’d asked a Jedi, and the Jedi weren’t hunted at every turn, they might have called it the Will of the Force.