Leyla sat up at the knock on the door. She had been slumped against one of the walls awaiting landing. Waiting for a situation to change was one of the hardest things to do but it was also often one of the best strategies. There was some old Jedi aphorism that stated as much but she could no longer remember it. 
“Alright come on in, I’m not planning on shooting anyone,” she called. That probably wasn’t completely true if there were Imperials waiting for them, but she didn’t even know where they were headed so she didn’t have enough information to go on. She held up her hands to show they were empty as the Zabrak entered.

"You have yourself a deal," she declared.

“Well they can’t be here for me, news doesn't travel THAT fast,” she protested.

“Could it be something you are carrying?” she asked glancing around. The look on the Zabrak’s face answered the question for her.

“Spice? Guns?” she asked. The Zabrak stepped towards a crate and pulled aside the canvas cover that had been concealing it. The familiar logo of Czerka arms was prominently displayed. Leyla winced slightly.

“Are they legal?” she asked skeptically.

“Legal is a fluid term out here,” the Zabrak replied, “I have papers for them if they don’t look too closely.”

Leyla blew out a breath as she thought things over. The Empire was a big place and coordinating a galaxy spanning bureaucracy was no easy feat. The problem was that Imperial troops on out of the way worlds were a law unto themselves and just as likely to harass the locals as enforce Palpatine’s laws.

“Ok, I think I can help bluff our way past them, but first, can you tell me who you are, and where in the galaxy you have brought me?”