Space Cantina Interlude

A cantina aboard a trade station, somewhere in frontier space.

"...and that is why I will never drink with a Zargollian space pirate ever again. It's just too risky."
The man at the bar was speaking to a female companion.
He wore a silver spaceship pilot's suit, a little worn around the edges, but still bearing the insignia of the Galactic Federation.
She was beautiful with long black hair, had the noticeably pointed ears of a Rigellian, and wore the outfit of a Rigel royal house to boot.
"But you had a gun," she said. "You could have shot him. Ended it right there. Before it got out of hand."
"True," he replied. "That's very true. But what I didn't mention so far is that this Zargollian had about a dozen more of his friends sitting across the room. Though I'm confident I have a decent chance against one at a time, or maybe even a few, I'm not crazy enough to think I could survive those odds. So I decided to cut bait and high-tail it out of there. Back to the ship. We lit up, cleared free of the station and were comfortably ensconced back into hyperspace before the local police vettes could so much as launch."
"That's a great story."
"Yeah. It probably sounds better looking back now than how it felt at the time. But I guess it was kinda fun. And we lived to talk about it."