Scene: "Protocol Error" Location: Outer Rim Spaceport.. Cargo Dock Cresh-9 The air was thick with fuel exhaust, the hiss of steam vents, and the chatter of countless travelers moving between ships. Dock Cresh-9 was a mess of durasteel crates, arguing freighter crews, and the ever-present hum of port security droids. Through the crowd marched a tall, sleek figure.. limbs just a little too long, head a bit too smooth, posture... oddly graceful. That is, until she tripped over a refueling cable and face-planted directly into a stack of shipping manifests with a loud, metallic clang. A few datapads clattered across the floor. "Ow. That was... intentional," came a voice.. smooth and feminine, yet carrying that unmistakable B1 droid cadence of self-denial. The droid sat up, photoreceptors flickering violet as she quickly brushed off invisible dust from her chassis, trying to compose herself. She looked around. "...You there. Organic unit. Do not be alarmed. I am functioning at optimal levels. Obviously." Her tone wavered with just enough sarcasm to sound unsure of her own claim. Rising to her feet, she cocked her head at whoever was nearby.. be it a Jedi, clone trooper, mechanic, or mercenary. "I appear to be... slightly off-course.." She offered a datapad forward with a shaky servo-hand. "Would you mind assisting me in locating… uh…" she tilted her head, internal systems clicking, “…Uh.. Anywhere..? Perhaps an Alley to breed with you..? Yes, I mean Breed."