Was a nice thing to not have to worry about proper landin procedures and all the lil dials and doodads that made it go all right and well. Instead the proper landin of the WR-542 dubbed (as far as she could tell) the 'Elizabeth Dane' was handled by two droid-brains: One standard the other workin a bunch of poodoo it weren't really made for but had been snagged outta one of them old Vulture fighters and rewired for the purpose of gettin them from Point A to Zed and all places betwixt. Wasn't a normal set up, but she'd gone about and done it and all things considered a lack of overall normal stuff on this little outin she'd agreed to was startin to seem right and in its proper place. Also meant that the girl sittin in the pilot's chair could go about wonderin and thinkin just how the hell it was that she'd started off playin a gig a day or two ago in some backwater bar on some backwater planet and had managed to go and agree to some cattle drive. Funnier yet was the bit she'd gone through to get a right proper ship set up for the thing, a'course her current parter, boss, guy had done a wonder to the hull too to keep folks in the dark 'bout it all. Even had managed to get them past some Feds at one point, a fact she was still amusing herself over. "Plants...frakin hell, gotta remember that bit..."

The ship quieted itself as it set down on Sullust and Sadie pulled a freshly lit cigarra from her mouth and took another swig of a flask that had found its way back out from her bag in a bit of celebration on not frakin the entire job up so far. Though the entire gig was still hangin on somethin not all that pleasant. There was still the matter of the guy she was workin for and the damage he'd gone and incurred when the intel folks had given them a hassle. "So you got any sort of idea where we can start lookin for a no-questions doc for ya or we just runnin with what you've patched yourself up with?"