Jrak continues their waddling through the wet streets, glancing up and down from their datapad until they find themselves standing before the worn down sign with its flickering B. This makes them pause, making sure they were looking at the correct establishment first. Jrak pops his lips, the always slight smile on his resting face - a trait of his species - pressing into a thin line.
Knowing they likely couldn’t get much for the shipment, Jrak was about to turn before they let out another pop of agitation turning to amusement, their frilly gills fanning slightly in the oxygel respirator before settling again almost like dreadlocks - pinned by the clear tanks of the apparatus. Why was Jrak even bothered by how much this person could pay. As long as they tried, it would satisfy the insurance requirements and they could start looking for the next jump. Jrak came up to the establishment door, inspecting it for a moment to determine where the communicator was before pressing a splayed hand against it to signal the occupants inside.