Kijani did actually laugh at the price. It was a short, mirthless bark. “Ten thousand? You must think we’re stupid. We could rent a ship and fly ourselves for that kind of money.” She stared down Han Solo with her uncanny yellow eyes. 

“Let’s see… you’ve obviously been here some time to know the patrons by name. You’re clean enough but have no drinks of your own. You don’t have any other contracts since you’re so desperate to take ours. You’re either trying to pull one over on us, or you are desperate. Neither of which we need right now.” She huffed. 

It was a risky move, calling his bluff. Certainly, there were sure to be other pilots around, and if they were well and truly desperate (which they sort of were) they could manage to slip onto public transport. Kijani was only half certain this would work – if it did, well, they got a discount. If it didn’t, well, they were going pilot shopping. 

“Your loss, Mr. Solo. Next time, try not to highball.” She looked to Adam and started moving out of the booth. “Let’s go.”