The ship gets closer... And closer... And then: "Having fun without me, Apprentice?"

"Lots."

"Well, if you want a ride out... You may have to share."

Salacis is definitely in no way, shape, or form opposed to that thought.

"You'd have to ask her," she giggles. "Um, Master, this is Rodanthe, the one I found. Rodanthe, this is my master, Darth Sidious."

"Hello."

"Hello to you, too."

She gestures negligently behind her, and the ship lands. She hums, then. "You're interesting."

"And fun, apparently."

"My idea of fun is a bit different than my Apprentice's. Not cognitive."

"Something I can appreciate."

"Good."

"Welcome aboard." Then, to Salacis: "Show our guest to a bunk, Apprentice."

"Yes, master."

To Rodanthe, "You can have the one next to mine."

"If it's designed for you, will it be tall enough for me?" she teases, stepping up behind Salacis and lightly draping her arms over her shoulders. (Which, given her elbows are about even with Salacis's shoulders...)

"It's not designed specifically for me. But, uh, you're going to be a bit of a squeeze..."

"I can curl up."

"You might have to."

"We'll see." To the bunks, then? 

To the bunks!

Salacis's is decorated with little glittery blaster stickers. Rodanthe will indeed need to curl up to fit into any of ones available.

"I like your decorations," she says. 

"Thanks. Gotta mark what's mine, you know?"

"Is that traditional, here?"

"Nope! I am a trend-setter."

"It'd be an interesting tradition to develop."

"Some things might need something different than stickers..."

Considering hum. "Are there ways to permanently fix images into your species' skin?"

Nodnod. "Yeah, they're called tattoos. Ink injected below the skin."