Milliways: the bar at the end of the universe. It's a bit crowded today, with a group of brightly-colored lizard people taking up several of the tables in the main bar and a more usual assortment of patrons scattered densely around the rest of the room - well, except for by the fireplace, where one patron is being given a somewhat conspicuous amount of space - perhaps it's the intimidating all-black outfit, or the way she's muttering to herself as she reads from the book she's holding, or the almost feral way she looks up when anyone in her field of view moves too quickly, but no one seems to want to get especially close to her.
"If I set you up with a place to live it'll have, like, a house and stuff."
Deskyl sighs and pats the droid's hand reassuringly. "She's a person but like - a baby, with droid instincts. Grow out of it, I hope."
Small smile, nod. "Droids're - more alien than most aliens, really. Human-based, roughly, but not very much like humans."
"Idea is they can work right away; all of their - everything - is for that. Learn, same's humans, but - idea is they're rolled back twice a year, can't need to learn much."
Shrug. "Idea is to replace human slaves. 'D be fine if they weren't, y'know, also people."
"Yeah."
"DZ's eight months - developmentally, human, mm, six year old? But smarter, more - reliable, independent that way."
"Curious to see what she grows into," she grins. "Not - unheard of, to let droids grow up, but rare enough and they vary enough that it's hard to guess."
She's visibly startled at the comment. "...'ve you been worried about that?"
"Because it's not goona happen, not because I could stop you if it did."