Log:A Party to Die For
(Summary: Gooza conspires with Bounty Hunters to destroy so called slave liberators with his new favorite dancer as bait)
(Warning, features early Twi'lek bullying and may be... uncomfortable)
The festivities and debauchery are in full swing at the Fortress of Binding. Several tables of gamblers line the hall, playing Sabacc and other games of chance with credits piled high. A three-piece band belts out sultry jazz tunes near the bar, flanked by a few Twi'lek dancers. The bartender slings drinks behind a long dais, seeing to the needs of a variety of smugglers, traffickers and villains.
The central feature of this place, of course, is Gooza the Hutt. Situated on his plush throne in the center of the hall, he smokes from a ten-foot-tall hookah pipe, and drinks from a four-litre tankard of bubbling green liquid. "Ahahahaha. Bring me more of those! More of those pretty ones!" The Hutt Lord gestures to the trio of Twi'lek dancers that sway and shimmy just a few feet in front of him, bringing his putrid tongue to lick his lips before he drinks again. "Good."
Center among them, oblivious to the din is a blue Twi'lek of delicate features and sensuous body, barely clad in a vibrant red V-cut leotard and closed dancing shoes. She moves with sensual grace and effortless precision; clearly a cut above most dancers employed in this corner of the galaxy.
And if she were more reliable, she might even be of higher standing, but she's so caught up in her performance that she doesn't realize she's been called until a chain is clasped to her collar, drawing a bewildered look from the slave roughly an instant before she's yanked forward by a surly gammorean; stumbling towards Gooza.
"Oh!" She yelps in alarm, findin her balance before looking up, wide-eyed, at the massive Hutt indulging himself in front of her. There's a moment of intimidated hesitation before she sinks to her knees, sweeping her arms behind her and lowering her head in deference. "Ah- forgive me, Master. Do you have need of me?"
"Ohhhhh. Look at this little one." And the Hutt does, his beady eyes lingering over her form for several moments as he brings the large tankard to his lips again. Pouring the bubbling liquid down his throat, the Hutt allows about a quarter of it to spill down his chin and onto his torso. "Hahahaha. Well?!?! Do you just stand there, or are you going to do something useful and amuse me, dancing girl?!?!? Hahahahaha." Gooza takes the hookah up to his mouth, blowing dense smokerings toward the ceiling.
"You didn't tell me we had a new one!! I like her already! Very nice features." Those comments are directed to the nearby Gammorean guards, who don't respond other than to grunt. "I'm going to like her!" That certainly seems to be correct.
Coh'Xeeth looks up briefly when he first compliments her, smiling softly. He likes her! That's encouraging! Less so when he questions her and she realizes she's not dealing with a patient Hutt who likes to spell out his orders. "Of course, Master!" She says quickly, briefly touching her forehead to the ground in front of him before she springs up to her feet.
Biting her lip briefly, and letting out a slow breath, she reaches her arms out to either side of her; and for a moment it seems as though she's going to do nothing other than perhaps clumsily put her body on display.
Truthfully, though, she's letting the music in the background play just long enough for the rhythm - for the right beat - to carry her away, at which point she starts to move, reaching her arms above her head as her body begins to move and writhe in the air; hips rolling sensually as her graceful legs carry her; dancing in a skilled, sensuous and seductive manner, putting her whole body into the performance with her decorated lekku swinging behind her.
She is not, of course, going all out; but it's more than, perhaps, the average degenerate Hutt will have bargained for.
The band transitions to a faster tempo as the Twi'lek dances, and the pulsing energy seems to delight the Hutt Lord. His laugh bellows deep from within his torso, reverberating off the bulkheads of the fortress as he watches her. "Very good, very good. What is your name, little one?" The Hutt's eyes seem to light up as he poses the question, even as he takes another puff of his gargantuan hookah.
Taking another gulp of his drink afterward, the Slave Lord lets out an unceremonial belch before he inclines his head toward the bar. "MORE!!! I'm almost done with this one, can't you see?!" He waves the tankard around for emphasis, before tilting it back and finishing it. "Hahahahah."
The Hutt has taken special notice of her it seems! That... *could* be good! It could also be disastrous; and on some level she knows that, but for now she's too thrilled at having pleased him - and caught up in the joy of her craft - to feel anything but elation. Her back is turned to you for the moment, her arms entwining, twisting and turning around each other as she turns her head to look at you over her shoulder with a naively hopeful, blushing smile; her pretty voice coming a bit breathlessly as she answers "My name is Coh'Xeeth, Master...!"
She's not quite startled by the Hutt's command, but she perhaps doesn't understand what he's referring to, oblivious to the other slaves refilling his gigantic drink as Coh'Xeeth herself visibly moves up a gear, working up a light sweat as she devotes her sensual body to the entertainment of this loathsome slug; and whoever else can see her through the growing haze of smoke.
"Coh'Xeeth. Good, good. You are very skillful -- I'm sure you have heard of the so-called 'liberators' on this Moon, who want to free you from the Hutt Carlet. Rest assured they just want to enslave you for themselves, and sell you onward. Stay with us, and you'll be treated well." As if she has any choice. When another couple slaves run up to the dais with a new, overflowing tankard of green bubbling liquid, Gooza takes it up without a word and shoves the empty glass toward them.
Tanking a puff of his hookah, the Hutt eyes the dancer and extends the tankard outward. "Now, let's see if you can be useful! Get up here and pour this down my throat! Hahahahah." That's a bit of a task, given the mass of the gastropod's form that encompasses his plush throne. Nonetheless, the Slave Lord extends his slimy tongue with a smile, his crooked and yellow-tinged incisors shining through. "Hahahahah."
Coh'Xeeth smiles, gently panting "Thank you, Master." before the Hutt begins to 'warn' her against the dangers that seek to confuse and misguide poor slaves like her; and she listens with wide, curious eyes. A thoughtful look comes to her face, before she smiles. "Thank you, Master. There's no need to worry for me." She says, and as the music reaches it's showy end, she dramatically sinks to one knee, bending forward and then arching her back, sweeping her arms straight out behind her in a pose that one could describe as 'needlessly suggestive' if not for the circumstances.
As if to punctuate this, she finishes, softly, with no hint of remorse in her voice, "I know what I am."
She was born in this environment after all. She hardly knows anything else. A lot of people would crack growing up in that environemtn, but Coh'Xeeth has... adjusted rather nicely to survive. She's a natural.
Which may be its own brand of cracking.
That said, she still has to steel herself a little as her new order comes, answering "Of course, Master..." as she rises up and draws near, still panting softly from her performance. A short lifetime of servitude hasn't *completely* innoculated her to the unpleasant realities of getting close to a Hutt; and that's before their vices - the smoke and *whatever* it is they drink - get mixed up in the smell. But she's had to put up with much worse; and she smiles them like she's smiling now, gently taking hold of his tankard with both hands and tilts it towards his open maw, watching his obscene face with an odd sort of reverence.
"Stick with me and the other Hutts and you'll be rewarded. And if anyone ever says they want to rescue you, you just come to me and tell me who they are. They won't be bothering you much longer." The Hutt laughs boisterously at that, as the band strikes up another tune. His eyes track her as she approaches the dais, and the Hutt sinks lower into his plush throne.
Gooza's eyes light up as the Twi'lek takes the massive tankard and tilts it toward his gaping mouth. He imbibes generously, even as almost half of the liquid spills down his torso. "Mmmm. Higher! HIGHER!" As if to help her with that command, the massive Hutt's tail slinks around the throne and encompasses the Twi'lek's torso, firmly lifting her several feet into the air. "Pour! POUR! Hahahahah." Several onlookers have gathered around the Hutt by now, clearly enraptured by the scantily-clad Twi'lek being hoisted into the air.
Coh'Xeeth briefly looks uncomfortable as Gooza elaborates. A gentle soul, she doesn't know if she wants anyone to get *hurt* but... still she answers "... Yes... Master..."
There is a slightly panicked look in her eyes as he starts to demand more and more of her, her - honestly a bit weak - arms struggling already with so large and full a tankard, until she feels that thick tail move under her, lifting her into the air by her wide hips as she gives a surprised cry of "Oh! Ah...!" unable to suppress a bit of a delighted laugh and a blush as she becomes the center of attention for a whole new reason... though her features tighten slightly, successfully but barely suppressing revulsion as she's given a whole new angle on the Hutt's corpulent form, prompting her to focus on pouring every drop of that swill down... well *ideally* his gullet... but in practice? Kinda everywhere.
The grotesque Hutt laps up the bubbling green liquid as it's poured by the suspended and scantily-clad Twi'lek dancer, belching as half of it spills down his massive form. "Hahahha. Faster! Pour -all- of it!" As if that wasn't already clear.
The Hutt Lord casts his gaze to the gathering crowd, laughing boisterously as the Twi'lek manages the rather unwiedly task. "You like the way the dancer looks in the air, hmmmmm? What part do you like best?!" As if to illustrate his point, the Hutt swirls the young Twi'lek around the air for a few moments, making her task all the more difficult. "Hahahahahah. Had enough, little one?!"
Coh'Xeeth is visibly straining now, even before her tormentor makes a game of making her task as difficult as possible; the ample-bodied Twi'lek nontheless straining and struggling to not only lift and tilt the tankard, now, but also keep it aimed even vaguely the right place as she's moved around.
"Nnn... hnnn...!" She grunts softly, gritting her teeth with the effort as all around her some drunken vulgar answers are called out in response to the Hutt's question. "For...give me, Master...! I'm... trying... nnk!" she grunts and squeaks, clearly petrified at the prospect of dropping this tankard on his face, at this point, knowing what could happen to her if she does.
It's a raucous night of sin and debauchery at the Fortress of Binding. A three-piece band belts out tunes near the bar, while a small crowd has gathered around the central dais and Gooza the Hutt's plush throne. The Hutt Lord is waving a Twi'lek dancer in the air -- her torso is held tightly by the Hutt's tail, while she pours a tankard of green bubbling liquid down the Hutt's throat.
"Hahahahaah. Girl needs more practice. More practice! We'll try again sometime soon. Good thing she didn't drop it, right?! Otherwise she'd need to be punished." After flailing the scantily-clad Twi'lek around for several moments, the Hutt sets her down a couple feet in front of him, laughing boisterously. "Hahahahah. Good." His eyes turn toward the bar. "And -bring- me another tankard!!"
Sumi Kora is one of those enjoying the three-piece band by the bar. She is at a table, but not alone. Enjoying the company of two other pretty ladies, the fully armored Mandalorian gives no indication of watching the spectacle going on at the central dais, but she actually /is/ watching. The magic of a helmet with a reflective visor prevents anyone from knowing where she's looking.
Sumi's company converse between themselves, nursing drinks while glancing up when the Hutt begins to laugh. Sumi's head tilts slightly, but she's made no comment so far. Perhaps she's just enjoying the tunes, and trying to relax!
The Twi'lek slave, who mere minutes ago was putting on - it must be said - a hell of a performance dancing for the Hutt in question - now finds herself struggling *possibly* for dear life until finally, mercifully, she's set down, her bare legs kneeling in scattered pools of spilled bubbling green booze as she gasps and pants softly for breath, rubbing her arching arms. "Ahn... f-forgive me Master. N-next time-" she gets about that far before he barks out that order, and she freezes with a little squeak, like a deer in the headlights, unsure if the command was for her or not.
Grishk makes his way into the fotrtess. Forgoing a drink offer as he shoves his way inside and kneeling to make introductions to the Hutt
"Hahahha. It's OK. Was little one's first time flying through the air, right? You'll be better next time. And even better the third time. Now move your ass and get me another drink!" The Hutt swig the last of the toxic-looking, bubbling green liquid and offers the empty tankard out to Coh'Xeeth. His eyes then scan the whole of the establishment, and eventually settle on Sumi Kora and her trio.
"Ohhhhh. Bounty Hunter with that armor, mmm? I hope you're enjoying your evening here, Bounty Hunter. The best drinks and entertainment on the moon!" The Hutt then eyes Grishk, inclining his head and taking a puff of his ten-foot-tall hookah.
Coh'Xeeth gives a tight lipped smile, nodding timidly at the Hutt's response, before flinching as his order become more clear. "Yes- Y-yes, Master!" She replies, rising to her feet with surprising grace under the circumstances, just in time to get weighed down by the tankard; taking it with one hand on the bottom and one hand on the sticky, slippery rim before giving the closest approximation of a courtsey as she can right now, and stepping off of the stage to get the tankard refilled.
It's all okay! She made it! Worst part's over, surely! Granted... bringing this thing back *full* will be a bit of a chore. Regardless, she dutifully makes her way to get it filled by what amounts to a prepared team with a hose and bundles of ingrediants used in excess to 'spice up' the beverage, as Coh'Xeeth leans against the bar near Sumi, not quite daring to sit down, but bracing herself against it, propping up one elbow as she puts her hand to her head, panting softly.
At being called to attention by the Hutt Lord, Sumi Kora straightens a bit. Her heart sinks for a moment, thinking that some how, her presence has earned the ire of what passes for power on this world. Thankfully, his words were kinder. In response, the Mandalorian takes one of the two girls' drinks and raises it as if to communicate 'cheers', then her head dips down in a noticeable nod.
The drink is set back down on the table top, and her 'gaze' shifts toward the slave being ordered to fetch another drink for the Lord. She follows Coh'Xeeth's advance to the bar and continues to watch her, head tilting slightly when the attractive slave leans against the counter while waiting. Sumi's gloved hand idly drums its fingers over the surface of her table.
As the Trandoshan makes his way deeper into the fortress, he nods at the aknowledgement of the Hutt. while sliding into a seat and observing...eventually odering a glass of whiskey for himself
"Well?! I'm waiting!!" The Hutt Lord takes a hefty puff of his hookah, sending fragrant and coarse smokerings toward the ceiling as his small, beady eyes shift between Sumi Kora and Coh'Xeeth. "Yes, yes. Do you like my new dancing girl, Bounty Hunter? Sometimes you find a diamond among the bantha fodder, hmm? Very skilled." He seems clearly satisfied by her performance, despite his various shouting and ordering her around.
Eyeing Grishk for a moment, the Hutt's lips curl into a snarled smile, showcasing his yellow-tinged and sharp teeth "Welcome, welcome. Enjoy yourself."
Coh'Xeeth takes a minute before she straightens up again, smoothing out her skimpy clothing and centering herself a bit, before she notices Sumi's gaze. She seems almost embarrassed to have only just noticed - having only been able to focus on the task at hand on the way over when Gooza singled her out - and gives a genuinely friendly little smile and wave.
It doesn't last. Coh'Xeeth barely begins to say hello to Grishk before she flinches sharply at Gooza's call, and takes hold of the tankard in both arms, calling "I'm coming, Master!" with that special combination of meek and desperate that tends to come with the territory, visibly struggling with the tankard as she makes a much slower approach back to the Hutt's stage.
(Editor's note: Greshk's pose) "If you have a bounty, Lord Gooza, I am able to take the contract if others are inable to complete the job" He states, looking over the ohers. "depending on the job i could use some help though:
Twice, now, she's acknowledged. Sumi rises suddenly from her table, and the two women with her rise too. Sumi dismisses them with a wave, or was the wave intended for the slave girl? It was hard to tell given the timing. Regardless, as Coh'Xeeth struggles on a path to return to the Hutt Lord, Sumi walks along side her with a swagger that suggested she was dangerous.
This is given proof through the natural pace of her walk, which briskly lifts the dainty blue tattered material that serves as a cape to reveal a BlasTech DP-23 shotgun resting flush against her side. She has not brandished this weapon, or even intentionally revealed it; it's just present beneath the confines of her cape.
Sumi arrives at the Hutt Lord first, and she's announced according to protocol. "Huntress Sumi Kora, the 'Bounty Hunter', Lord Gooza." Sumi, at being announced, bows slightly, waiting to be commanded to approach.
The Hutt Lord takes the offered tankard from the Twi'lek slave, manuevering his tail to moderately -- almost gently -- massage her lower back. "Good. Stand here." Gooza cocks his head immediately to his side, taking a large gulp of the booze and belching before looking between Grishk and Sumi. "Trandoshan and Huntress -- welcome to the Fortress of Binding. Approach the mighty and inebriated Gooza!" He is clearly enjoying himself tonight, and well in his cups, as he takes the hookah back up to his mouth and smokes.
"There is an open contract on the so-called defiant liberators, who want to 'liberate' slaves like this lovely one." He -smacks- Coh'Xeeth's scantily-clad bottom with his tail to punctuate his words, laughing heartily. "The truth is that they want our slaves for themselves, to sell them onward and make their own profits. That, and they are simply jealous. So, we find out who they are, and we either enslave them here in the Palace or kill them outright. Are you interested?" He prompts them both with a broad smirk, baring his fangs.
"Hnnng.... hnnngkk...!" Coh'Xeeth grunts on her treacherous path back to Gooza's stage, a body that was NOT prepared to lug around heavy liquids calling upon every iota of the grace and balance she WAS trained for not to topple over and get herself in terrible trouble.
By pure instinct she bows her head politely to Sumi as she passes her, and *almost dies as a result*. But luckily manages to regain her balance and reach Gooza, sinking to one knee - out of neccessity - as she hands the tankard over to him with a sigh of relief. At his attention - slimy and repulsive as it may be, she gives a grateful smile before slightly breathlessly responding "Yes, Master."
She takes her place within reach of Gooza, careful not to obstruct his sight and acting, basically, as an attractive ornament, a prop in a play of opulence with her body put on display. She's rather keenly aware of everyone else now, being able to look down at them from the Hutt's stage. She gives a sharp little yelp when Gooza's tail strikes her backside, blushing sharply and turning her face downward, squirming a bit in place.
"I am interested. I can provide a ship and equipment if Hutt insurance is possible. If not, we need to talk numbers more. Grishk states
Sumi approaches when commanded to, and she stops at a respectable distance, glancing casually at the security present around the Hutt Lord, then behind her. Confident in her surroundings, the Hunter takes an 'at ease' stance and hooks her hands, by their thumbs, to her gun belt to listen. Sumi isn't so eager to take any job. How many hunters present could say they drug in a Jedi for the First Order? At being asked for her interest in the job, Sumi's head tilts and she speaks after the Trandoshan. <"I'm not cheap."> Is all she adds. It's a disclaimer, but Lord Gooza would have to make the choice to hire a professional, or go with any run of the mill Bounty Hunter. She left that choice up to his mighty and inebriated judgement.
"Hahahah. You're not cheap. Do you think I am interested in cheap? I am Gooza, Labor Lord of the Hutt Cartel. Mind your tongue, little Bounty Hunter." The Hutt narrows his beady little eyes on the armored woman for a moment, chuckling heartily before looking to the Trandoshan. "You are eager and willing. That's good. But this job needs more than just raw brawn. These so-called liberators hide in the shadows, making their plans in secret. So you must first -find- them, and then bring them to me, dead or alive." Gooza takes a drink of his tankard and puff of his hookah as if to punctuate his words, eyeing the Twi'lek dancer for good measure.
"So! Twenty thousand per dead body, thirty thousand per liberator turned into a slave. That is my opening offer. And, perhaps if you'd like, a private dance from this lovely one." His tail massages the dancer's lower back for emphasis. "That itself is worth several thousand credits, don't you think?"
Coh'Xeeth gives a sympathetic little wince towards Sumi at her Master's seeming displeasure - as much for Sumi as for herself, as she's the one who'll seemingly have to endure whatever mood he's in. Granted, Gooza can't define *Sumi's* entire world with slightly alarming fickleness.
When offered as a reward, however, Coh'Xeeth simply bows her shoulders briefly, putting her hands on her thighs until she straightens up again and clasps her hands behind her back; showing defference - and displaying her body more than a little - like a good slave.
"Neither am I" Grishk states, looking towards "I have private quarters for whomever is involoved. I have a ship to providee. Lets say maintenance is out of your pocket and we share the rest. If you need weapons we can work that out privately. I have a large arsenal"
Sumi offers a nod to Grishk, then looks back to the Hutt. If his idle threat fazed her, it failed to show in her body language. <"Do these liberators have names, Lord Gooza?"> Sumi's gaze shifts toward the deferring slave and her head tilts again when she puts her body to display. <"For a dance? Sure. What do you think as bait? A pretty thing like her would fetch the eye of any would be hero.">
"They have variously called themselves the liberators, the defiance, whatever they want to call themselves. I do not care what they call themselves. There will always be some -idiots- who think slavery is wrong, or pretend to, just to -steal- my slaves and take them for their own and sell them." Right. Gooza drinks to that, belching loudly and taking a puff of his hookah, exhaling such that his corpulent body is momentarily enveloped in floral-scented smoke.
"Yes, she is a prime candidate for that type of trap, don't you think? Plenty of scum would want to 'rescue' this one to take her as their own. You think you might want to use her as bait, Bounty Hunter?" The Hutt quizzes her with a laugh, his tail running up the Twi'lek's back to her shoulders as he speaks. "Get her killed, of course, and I'll be feeding your ass to the Rancor. Your armor won't help you in that situation, little one." Gooza seems to find that very funny, perhaps given the force of the booze, and his laugh bellows for several moments, resounding off the walls of the fortress.
Coh'Xeeth politely turns her face away from the cloud of smoke as discreetly as she can, her hand briefly raising to neck height before she fights back the instinct to wave it away.
She gasps softly when a role is unexpectedly proposed for her, inhaling way too much of the smoke and adding a moment's cringing pause before she half blurts out, half coughs: "M-*Me?*" She says, eyes wide with worry. She glances back and forth rapidly before looking downward anxiously as the two continue to talk; her heart beating a little faster as - regardless of her worry - she unconciously raises one hand to gently rub Gooza's slimy tail at her shoulder - putting a bit of a shine on the skin on her shoulder - even as her free hand trembles and fidgets at her side.
Another idle threat bounces harmlessly off the surface of an expressionless armor. <"If it is the Mighty Gooza's plan to leverage his slave as bait to draw out those dubbed liberators, then I agree with your formidable plan."> Including the Rancor. <"Is Lord Gooza aware that the Organization named Defiance has disbanded? I suspect your liberators, now, are probably much less organized."> Sumi does not acknowledge the slave who draws attention to herself. Of course it was her; she was the prettiest thing within their immediate vicinity.
"Less organized, yes. You are smart." The Hutt swigs his drink as he considers, shifting his beady eyes between the slave and the bounty hunter. "Still, there are those on the moon and elsewhere who would want to interfere with our operations. The moment we think we are safe is the moment they will move against us, hmm?" The Hutt smokes and considers for a moment, puffing another few smokerings over toward the slave girl. "I can also pay you for high-quality slaves, whether they fancy themselves liberators or not. Fewer credits, of course. But still good money to be made."
The Hutt drinks again, burping and inclining his head to the dancer. "I'm sure you don't mean to -question- the business deals I am discussing with the Bounty Hunter, hmm? Of course not." He looks back to the Mandalorian. "So, we are business partners now, hmm? If you're looking for more regular income, security details are available. You're more professional than most of the pigs I hire to guard the place, Bounty Hunter." There's a bit of honesty from the Hutt Lord, who laughs heartily. "Hahahahah."
When chastised, Coh'Xeeth raises her shoulders and lowers her head, her hand briefly tensing on the Hutt's tail as she stammers, "N-no, Master! I- I merely..." She bites her lip and just shakes her head, her lekku swinging gently behind her as she repeats softly, "... No, Master."
She's more than a little terrified just at the idea of what's being discussed, but nothing, surely, is as bad as earning a Master's wrath *can* be. Though she *does* give a little apologetic look to the nearest Gammorrean at Gooza's last callous comment.
<"I sense wisdom in the Mighty Lord Gooza's strategy. Complacency has no place in business. Enemies will always lurk in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike."> The Mandalorian shifts her weight from one leg to another, becoming reverently silent as the Hutt Lord addresses its slave. When another question is levied to Sumi, a brief silence is conveyed before the Bounty Hunter dips her head slightly to acknowledge the confirmation of their dealings. <"We have an accord, Lord Gooza. By your leave, may I take your slave to begin this operation?"> Sumi doesn't give a rekk about the portly Gammorrean guards standing nearby.
The Hutt snorts at that, guzzling his drink as he considers. "I just met you a few minutes ago, Mandalorian Huntress. You think I will let you walk out of my Fortress with this pretty one?" He taps his tail against the small of the Twi'lek's back for emphasis, laughing heartily as he takes a puff of his hookah. "Come back with a plan of how you intend to use her as bait, specifically. Perhaps I can even help, hmm? And then you'll be well-rewarded, bringing me either new slaves or dead would-be heroes." The Hutt seems to enjoy that phrase, smirking broadly.
"I think we will be good business partners. Who else do you work for, little Bounty Hunter?" There's at least some sense of genuine curiosity in the Hutt's voice.
Coh'Xeeth seems reieved; both at seemingly averting her Master's displeasure, and at not being thrust immediately into danger. Still, today is... today is a day, so far, and she watches Sumi curiously for her response.
<"I hunt Jedi for the First Order. I am a member of the Guild."> Sumi replies, again sounding unfazed by the lack of trust. There was no scenario where mouthing off to a Hutt Lord ended favorably. Respect was earned; one just needed to expect betrayal too. Lord Gooza was wise to trust whatever passed for his gut.
"Jedi? Never met one. Have heard of them, though." The Hutt considers, and -- of course -- drinks, sinking further into his plush throne. "I have had dealings with the First Order. They respect the Hutt presence on the moon, and we respect them. That is good enough." Gooza smirks, eyeing the Bounty Hunter and the slavegirl.
"As I said, we will get along well. Perhaps we host some sort of public spectacle with this one and several other dancers, which will likely attract some would-be liberators. Or maybe you have a better idea, hmm? In any event, this will be a mutually-beneficial relationship." The Hutt then turns to the Twi'lek, addressing her matter-of-factly. "You don't have any problem with showing off in public for the greater good of the Cartel, do you, little one?"
Coh'Xeeth was in over her head the moment she became even tangentially related to anything that wasn't simply servitude related. Even if the business in question wasn't *murder* she doesn't have any sort of education or the awareness of the outside world she would need not to feel totally out of her depth.
But she understands serving and entertaining with her body. And she sure as hell understands keeping her owners happy. So it's not entirely self serving when she smiles and answers - sincerely despite some nerves - "... I am proud to perform for the Hutt Cartel, Master."
<"If it is Lord Gooza's desire to draw them out in the open, then I am happy to go along with it. I'm an exceptional sniper. Or, if you want me in the middle, making an example of everyone who threatens your domain, I can do that as well. Though, I might make one recommendation, humbly of course, for the Mighty Gooza's consideration."> Sumi remains where she is, but her head tilts a bit. <"Power comes in many forms, but on the battlefield; it is about controlling the environment. Instead of being outside, have it in a place you control every aspect of. The doors, windows, the air, the food, the security and dancers. Make it enticing enough that they think they can get away with it; then? Lock them in.">
"Mm, yes, yes. I could throw a grand party right here, couldn't I? Of course, it would have to be a daring group of misfits who would think they can infiltrate my palace and steal my slaves. But even if we don't get any bites, it's still a good party, right?" The Labor Lord laughs heartily, giving a mock toast to that and drinking -- nearly finishing his huge tankard.
"What do you think? Interested in being the featured entertainer, newly employed in Gooza's palace? I could think of a few feature performances that would sell tickets at a thousand credits per guest." Gooza eyes the Twi'lek dancer with a laugh, seeming to delight in this.
Inviting enemies *here*? Killing people in, well, if not her home, then *one of the places she's kept?* That's... that sounds really scary to Coh'Xeeth!
Yet even still, the simple-hearted Twi'lek can't quite resist a rush of excitement at the way Gooza phrases the offer. Her answer comes all at once, but her face undergoes many transformations in the time it takes to finish saying: "I-" she's smiling brightly, "-would-" smile falters "-be-" wait no this is really dangerous. Brow lowers. "-honored,-" cringe, "-Master." And then she puts the smile back on her face because, well, she never really had a choice anyway, and it's her job to be pleasing.
How is this happening?
Agreeing to the notion of it being a good party, the Mandalorian just reverently nods her head yes. When the Hutt laughs heartily, Sumi smirks beneath the sanctity of her helmet and turns her head to observe the slave's reaction to being the featured entertainer. Her reaction wasn't something Sumi could read well enough; not from this distance at least. <"I will avail myself for the Mighty Lord Gooza's convenience so that we are prepared for our guests to arrive. ">
"Good. Drink specials, gambling and a featured performance by this one. We'll get the advertising out shortly. Then we just wait for the opportunity to present itself, hmm? I don't think this one will disappoint us -- she's been very impressive!" As if to accentuate that praise, the Hutt boss leans over and -- with a stubby and fat hand -- helps himself to a generous squeeze of the dancer's backside.
"Assuming we don't get any takers, I'll still pay you five thousand for the extra security that you and your merry band provide, Mandalorian. And much more if we make ourselves a catch. That is fair, hmm?" He winks once, baring his teeth and looking between the Bounty Hunter and the dancer.
Coh'Xeeth nods once, flitting between excitement and abject horror as her brain tries to reconcile what's been a *relatively simple* existance up to this point with the advent of an assassination plot. Gooza's wandering hand at least gives her something else to focus on with a soft grunt, though she gives a worried look to Sumi that's borderline pleading - as if the Bounty Hunter has some say in wether or not the targets will actually appear to kick the whole thing off. Though, of course, she dare not speak out of turn.
<"My rifle is yours."> Sumi says, sealing the pact as a verbal contract and a slight dip of her head. <"So long as I am paid for my services, there will be no complaint from me, Lord Gooza."> Mandalorians had a reputation for being the best of friends when there are credits, and the worst enemies when they are slighted. Sumi does nothing to issue an idle threat, it came by reputation of being a Mandalorian; though one might wonder who would be foolish enough to oppose a Hutt Lord? Coh'Xeeth's pleading look saw no reaction from the hunter; it wasn't even clear if she'd seen it (She did). <"Unless there is more business to discuss.."> Sumi says, trailing off. <"I humbly request Lord Gooza's permission to leave.">
"Good. This one will practice her dancing in the meantime, and I'll send you word when we've chosen a date for the party. See if you can gather any intelligence between now and then, hmm? You will be well rewarded, Bounty Hunter." The Hutt Lord finishes his drink, tossing the empty tankard onto the floor of the Fortress with a -clank- and taking another puff of his hookah. "Make yourself useful and help the bartender clean down the bar, hmm? You did well today, little one." Those words, and faint praise, are directed to the slave.
Coh'Xeeth, slightly dazed and extremely worried, manages to keep her voice steady as she replies "Thank you, kind Master...!" She turns towards him and gives a submissive, sweeping bow before she steps down from the stage, a lifetime dancer's practiced grace being the only thing keeping her from stumbling like a drunkard right now; walking past Sumi with an anxious glance. The moment passes quickly though, and there's nothing in front of Coh'Xeeth but her work.
At being dismissed, the Hunter turns just after Coh'Xeeth has glanced her way, then passed. With a casual shift of a tattered blue cape, the Mandalorian warrior descends the dais, taking the steps at her own pace while watching the dancer go about her duties. Rather than rejoining those around the bar, Sumi continues toward the exit of the palace. She adopts a similar swagger like before.