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Rina Hambly, she of the red gold hair, smoky voice, crippling social anxieties, and short order cook; was confused.
She was confused, mainly because her boss, a manumitted protocol droid named Squeaky, had just requested something odd. "I'm sorry Squeaky, I must have misheard. What did you want?"
The silver and gold toned droid made an irritated noise, a sound Rina had learned was his equivalent of a huff. "I need a bottle of your hottest liquid seasoning."
Rina turned to survey her pride and joy; a spice rack crammed with every conceivable flavouring, racial, and planetary speciality. "Dare I ask what you'll be doing with it?" Her calloused fingers flicked through the small glass bottles and vials searching for a particular ruby red oil.
As Rina picked up a flat round bottle, Squeaky muttered something. "What? You're not going to do something reprehensible are you?"
The droid took the bottle and gave Rina a stern look. "I believe two tables are waiting on their orders still Miss Hambly."
Rina shrugged and went back to the half-cooked order. She was used to her irascible employer's strange code of politeness. No doubt one of the flyboys had forgotten to say 'please' or 'thank you'. It was a shame that she'd had to sacrifice her last bottle of Corellian Fire Oil though.
Perhaps she could try one of her father's shady contacts to smuggle out some more of the restricted products...
Rina was dishing up the order for table 12 when she heard a strangled yell and breaking glass from the client side of the tapcaf. She flinched and hoped to the Force that there wouldn't be trouble.
Heavy footsteps paused at the bar and soon approached her little kitchen. They were unfamiliar and not the noisy mincing steps of Squeaky.
Rina turned; still holding the bowl of seasoned wedges in front of her like a shield. In the narrow entrance to the abandoned test shaft that had been adapted into a rough and ready kitchenette loomed two meters of Gamorrean. She took a little comfort in the fact he physically couldn't fit past the racking braced against the walls.
He cleared his throat and spoke, firstly in his natural voice; grunts and squeals unintelligible to the human ear, a few seconds later, a mechanical voice translated, "Excuse me; are you able to help? My colleague appears to be in some distress caused by accidental ingestion of something unpleasant."
"Uh." Rina managed, 'So eloquent and ladylike, Daddy would be proud!' Her inner voice snarked.
The Gamorrean regarded the human thoughtfully, she seemed to be suffering from some sort of social anxiety disorder. Piggy thought back to the time he'd spent on the library planet, Obra Skai, and tried to remember the research he'd read on human interactions. Generally smiling was deemed a non-threatening gesture.
Rina's hand were shaking so much that the plates she was holding started to rattle dangerously.
"Table 12 is still waiting." Squeaky stated from somewhere behind Piggy.
The Gamorrean obligingly moved out of the way for a terrified cook to dash past and thrust the plates at the droid.
Rina peeked out over the bar and caught sight of who they must be talking about. A tall pilot with a mop of light brown hair was hunched over, coughing and gagging. Even through the dim ambience of DownTime, Rina could see that the portion of the poor man's face she could see was bright red.
"Oh my goodness Squeaky, how much did you put in his drink?"
Squeaky shrugged in the awkward way of protocol droids everywhere, "The entire bottle. Was that...wrong?"
"Stars above, you could have killed him!" Rina darted back into the kitchenette and started rummaging through the chiller unit. After a few moments she found what she was looking for.
The young cook returned to the Gamorrean with a large bottle of pale blue liquid and a bowl of ice chips. "Tell him to drink the milk as slowly as possible; it should stop the burning and the gag reflex. The ice is to help cool him down after."
She placed the items on the bar and shuffled back into her lair to prepare for the next orders scrolling across her datapad's screen.
"Honestly. Some people really should learn to handle their drinks." Squeaky groused from behind the bar.
Rina shook her head fondly and the droid's odd ideas. Hopefully the rest of the week wouldn't be quite so...exciting.
She flinched when Squeaky appeared at her elbow with a lomin ale on a tray along with a note scribbled on a napkin. "I owe you at least one - TP"
As she read the note, Rina was completely oblivious to the small smile that had crept onto her face.