>  > Catching the slight movement out of the corner of his eye, his face 
> grows
>  > perplexed for a second before his eyes light up, "You're a real lady!"
>  
>  "Yes...I'm a Dame of the Order of Deneb...", Sharda replies
>  matter-of-factly, with only the tiniest trace of pride.
>  
>  > Then as the 'unable to afford' sinks in, his mirth bounces off the
>  > walls . "That man owes you a tall one," he laughs thrusting his 
> hand at the
>  > couple causing the duffle to swing helplessly from the strap still 
> grasped
>  > tightly in his extended hand.
>  
>  She looks a little puzzled for a moment until she grasps what the man
>  might be implying.  Then she smiles again.  "Ah.  Thank you, Mr.
>  Cuthbert!"
>  
>  > With his other hand he starts to wipe a tear from the corner of his 
> eye but
>  > regrasps the door before it slams in the lady's face. The tear forgotten,
>  > roles down his ruddy cheek before suspending itself from a jaw line 
> that
>  > hasn't been shaved since early morning or perhaps the night before.
>  
>  Sharda seems to be a bit surprised by his single tear, but clearly
>  decides not to mention it as she gracefully steps through the open
>  door.  The attractive trader then walked up to Sasha and gave both him
>  and his companion a polite smile and nod.  "Excuse me, sir...", she
>  asks with the easy confidence of someone who's obviously a "people
>  person", "...but are you Captain Chevzardnazheh?"

The woman with the PDA standing next to the apparent Captain squelched a smile that appeared on her face as Sharda did a passable job on the last name, then took a half-step back and into that position normally assumed by an adjuctant or an aide-out of sight yet able to whisper into a superiors ear if needed...

Paris kept her mouth to herself--the woman hadn't mangled Sasha's name too badly, not for a first try, which meant that she'd apparently met him yesterday...