"Da," Nareth says with a nod, "I am certain it is a profitable business, especially if the range of ships you can work with is wide. This is a rather diverse galaxy."
He brings the drink to his lips to sip, but instead finds himself spluttering on the vodka, coughing and lowering the glass abruptly at the arrival of Myitt. "Ah--hello, Myitt," he says cautiously. His eyes travel over her generally disheveled appearance. "This is Ike. Ike, Myitt, Myitt, Ike. He was just telling me about his experience with ship repairs. Something I think the two of you have in common, da?"