As others on the docks hid for cover so certain of the crash Ashala just stood there looking at the ship that nearly made her request a transfer. "[color=6ecff6]Roughnecks, back to work. They don't pay us by the hour[/color]." She said over the communicator. Ashala prepped the off loading spaces and made sure the mooring lines were ready to resupply the ship with whatever she needed. The dock master smiled slightly at how the Terran habit of calling ships by the female titles caught on to her. Those T-1 people where worth the money. Ashala knew her limits, but she never stopped marveling at the higher levels. 

[color=fff79a]"Uh boss? You want the over night crates from the hanger on the off world staging area? Because you s-said you wanted the over nighters cleared from the dock."[/color] Jimmy never got use to talking to the boss. Even now little beads of sweat started dotting his head. Her terran was not the greatest and it took the memory of the last guy that laughed at her to keep his composure.

[color=fff79a]"No! How many, times, I have said, crates, loadmasters, problem to, store. We, off load, and load, what's here."
[/color] Her team always sent the new terran and forced her to use their common. "Jerks." They called it the roughneck initiation.