Echo followed Gerst out the door, moving around the freshly arrived speeder he reaches the speeder that the team had arrived in, circling around to the driver’s seat, he opens it up and sits down. While waiting for the replusors to reach full power he checks to make sure Gerst is in the back seat.

Gerst gets in and nods. "I'm in, let's go."

The replusors hit full power and Echo pulled away from the entrance. “<I’m going to pull around the corner>” he said in his native language. The speeder rounded the corner, and Echo pulled it into an open spot midway along the block. After the speeder had settled, he put it into off rather than idle this time. Thinking to himself that it was unfortunate that it did not have a quick start setting, but then again it was a civilian speeder, and features like that were not common on them. After switching it off, Echo exited the speeder and began a walk back towards the drive that he had spotted earlier. “<I saw an alternate way in>” He told Gerst, “<It looked like a loading dock, it’s this way>”

Nir nods at his two cohorts as they exit the building before sitting right next to the nervous looking Twi'Lek. He takes a few moments to gaze at the newcomers, unfamiliar individuals always drew the Bothans attention. Their outfits suit this place to a tee, but something still seems odd about them. I guess anyone meeting a Hutt willingly is odd!

"So, what's your story tails? Here to get a job dancing? Or is it a semi hostile negotiation like us?" Nir strikes up a conversation with the Twi'Lek sitting next to him. He is a friendly guy and talking is what he loves to do, always talking. You never know what someone else might know.

At that moment a familiar female swans through the door. The confidence carried by the short haired human identified her as a leader, she clearly felt comfortable being in control. The rest in the room didn't know just how good she was at that, a fierce competitor who could inspire greatness in her squad... but here her confidence would be less important, her quick wits where focused on guiding the field of battle, Nir was her Negotiator, her Charmer, her Lier. He was her secret weapon on the field of social combat.

"Here Donna" Nir slips a subtle wink into his introduction, Donna was a false name they had used previously when identification was unwanted. They already agreed this was one such time.

"Take a seat, the boys are parking the speeder? Good. Apparently our prior booking was not recorded so we have to wait a little but. In the meantime this lass here" Nir points to the nervous Twi'Lek "was about to tell me all about her dreams of dancing for a Hutt."

Galla nods, wrinkling her nose at the grav-ball mom name but figuring it's better than her real name floating around a Hutt database. She sits beside Nir, giving the twi'lek a look over and wondering how she's gonna audition when it looks like she should be hiring 'protection', but shrugs. "How long is 'a little bit'?" she asks Nir.

Slave's Quarters

Toyed and toying, prey and hunter, the rhythms of the dance - she smiles at the man's coaxing and flattery. As a woman who's now spent years filling the (rather demeaning) role of sex object to a creature who, literally, owned her, all interest in her grace and beauty as a point of personal pride is muted, now - they are tools, tools he knows how to use albeit, but still. They are her hydrospanner and her blaster. What is this man talking about? When you reduce living souls to chattel, desperation drives ugly instincts out in some - could that be all this man wants? But then, she's in a harshly lit, open room, with at least one guard whose primary role is to get her where she's going - her limitations are, in some ways, her shield, now. And after all, the man didn't strike her as a snitch. And maybe, she half-admitted to herself, she was lonely, tired of the game. It felt good to pretend, or to pretend hoping for more than pretense.

"Is that so? A Bothan so rich and powerful he could harbor the escaped property of a Desalijic Hutt, hmm?" she smiled cat-like at this, playfully, and leaned in closer, her breath now on the man's ear, "And what, pray tell, is it that you would ask of me, hmm?"

OUTSIDE THE COMPLEX

The weather is sultry, today, a dirty smelling humidity clinging to the duracrete and synth-steel of the corporate buildings. The streets have few passersby: a truck from Universal Parcel Spacelanes making the rounds, a trolling security vehicle, its laser turret lazily rotating back and forth over its blue painted armored sides. The only other occupant of the street is a human chauffeur, leaning suit coat over his arm, sweating prosaically.

Behind the import export building is, indeed, a loading dock. There are three bays, one currently occupied by a repulsor-truck carrying what the eye trained in such things might recognize as Liannan cabinetry, a sleek contemporary style popular amongst the wealthy. The cabinets are wrapped in the shimmer of shipping grade force-fields, an expensive addition, but the customers for these items were wiling to pay for the protection from scratches and dings. The unloading is being done by a group of cleanly uniformed Duros. Three guards, also sweating and looking a bit drained by the heat, stand guard over the area.

The bay doors themselves are blast weight, and its difficult to see inside the open one with the truck and unloading, but a receiving floor is visible, as well as three load lifter droids.

The Reception Hall

The Twi'lek cowers a bit when addressed - she's obviously jumpy and nervous, and those familiar with the race would notice agitated ripples in the musculature of her head tails. Those experienced in... other areas, might notice healing sores on the edges of her eyelids, the leftovers of an addiction to any of a number of drugs of the Sinocil class, taken for a number of psychological ailments, but also addictive and popular recreationally. The sores are crusted over, indicating that she hasn't taken it recently - which may or may not explain the agitation.

She turns to look at Nir and Donna, and mutters very, very softly, "Here for a... an insurance claim." Her hands fidget nervously beneath her robe.

Absolutely, ma'am...

He smiles and winks.

He adjusts another stray bit of hair.

A Bothan who'd buy your freedom, he is a charmer but also a guilable romantic, whose heart was broken by a Twi'lek who looks an awful lot like you my dear. I'm sure you can find a way into his heart.

As for me? I'm not asking much.

He makes an exaggerated worried look in the guard's direction.

Watch him not me.

He tries to spin her around.

All I need is for you to deliver a message for me at the right time...

Outside, Gerst surveys the scene with a scowl. "****. Too many witnesses and guards. We can go in claiming to be making a "private delivery," and I can lean someone to try and get us through...but trying to intimidate someone who works for a Hutt on their own turf isn't exactly easy. Plus even if we got inside, we'd probably end up shooting our way out."

Nir reads people well, its in his best interest to be able to predict their moods and actions. The fact this Twi'Lek is agitated, stressed and on edge does not slip by him. Something is up here, lets see what this offers us. "Miss we are in no dire hurry, if you would like to see the Hutt before us i understand." Hoping to catch the girl off guard Nir takes any opportunity to look over her for signs of another motive.

Slave's Quarters

The dancer half turns, so she can see both the guard and her fellow prisoner, then she crooks a half smile, "Only a message, eh? I can probably do that." She looks up at the man one more time, "Why don't you tell me while you adjust my hair, I think one of the rods might be lose. Easy to fall out, you know." Now she turns toward the guard.

Lobby

The Twi'lek blushes staring hard at the ground, her feet tapping nervously, "I... Her Greatness has not agreed to see me as yet. I am waiting, hoping she will do so. If I go in... I..." She starts abruptly to cry, quietly but copiously.

Galla leans back a bit in alarm at the sudden onslaught of emotion. Dammit, Nir, why does this always happen around you? Nosy bastard, she thinks with resigned fondness. She leaves the girl for Nir and jumps up, marching over to the front counter.

"Box of tissues?" she half requests, half demands. Even as she has sympathy for the twi'lek, she wonders if this is something that they can use to keep attention off of the others.

The Twi'Leks tears bother Nir, he is a compassionate soul and the distress of another stirs in him the need to sooth their pain. "Lass, I'm sure things will turn out just fine for you. Insurance claims are often slow tedious affairs with long forms to fill out. The emotional strain will end soon and you can get on with your life" He puts his arm around her shoulder in a comforting friendly way, supporting her through the sobs.

"Thanks Donna" Nir sais, remembering just in time to use the right name for her. He takes the tissues and dabs at the tears of the forlorn lass, being sure to not ruin any of her makeup thats still surviving the downpour. As he works the Twi'Lek shuffles, seemingly to get more comfortable. "It's all right" he repeats as the tears slow.

Crap where you at Nir get back in this we have a job to do... what did i miss?

Feeling the faintest idea of a plan tickle the back of her mind, Galla marches up to the front desk and the receptionist. "This is ridiculous," she says, tone severe and channeling her best 'I'm more important than you' attitude. "Issues with appointments, crying women in the middle of the lobby, is this how her Excellency prefers her employees handling her affairs?!" She crosses her arms and gives the woman an chastising look, "At the very least I would expect my people to offer this poor woman some privacy to get herself under control. Now, where's an empty meeting room? That would be better, at least, than the front lobby."

Thank you ma'am and your all set. Knock em dead out there!

He whispers in her ear just before she goes.

Wait till after the Bothan sees the Hutt. Deliver to the Hutt's secretary this message: When a sparrow dives for insect prey... It feels just like a hawk. That is till it flies into the grey and gets caught..... Remember wait till the right time. Thank you... And good luck with the Bothan!

He takes one of the sharp hairpins and another Bobby pin.

The Lobby

The receptionist looks distinctly uncomfortable, and pushes a button beneath the desk. Then pushes it again. The guards look a bit tense. She whispers urgently into her headset, though its difficult to pick out the words (Difficult medium, with a setback dice because of the extra noise in the room). A moment passes, and the majordomo comes back in, looking mildly disgusted. He looks at the group, and says with teeth gritted, "Ms Ga'linli, the chairwoman will see you now."

He looks then to Nir, coldly, "You and your 'merchants' should just as well come, too. Be quick about it."

Slave Quarters

The dancer c0cks her head, but smirks, "Why not. You only live once." She reaches back and casually rearranges the hair around the missing pins, so that it stays in place, and walks toward the now irritated guard. "Calm down, Wrinkles. I'm coming." The two of them advance to the entrance to the royal hall, the dancer stopping just a moment to raise into the pose of someone trained in Nylathian dance - very highbrow, and not often to be found in these reaches of the galaxy. Then she prances forward and disappears through the door.

"We're right behind you" Nir says quietly to the Twi'Lwk as he stands, then promptly allows himself to fall back slightly from her to give him and Galla a chance to talk. More loudly he addresses the majordomo "About time, the chairwoman would not want to miss this opportunity..." he leaves that hanging in the air as the group move towards the security doors and what lies beyond. With practised care Nir questions Galla as they walk side by side "Did you catch what the receptionist said?"

"Another appointment is VIP's," she tells him quietly, "that they want the red carpet out for."

"So this taking longer than they want could play into our hands, good, let's see where this takes us."

Gerst packs his modified E-11 into the briefcase. "Echo, get your carbine in yours. At this point having an empty case is just as bad as a gun. Look like you mean business." Once Echo is ready, Gerst gets out of the speeder, affixes his customary scowl onto his face, and walks firmly over to the guards. "We have business inside. Move."

Echo follows Gerst towards the guards. Stopping half a pace behind Gerst, Echo glared at one of the guards as Gerst spoke, trying to give the impression that he would end up scrubbing the floors, or worse, if they did not get to pass. The guards didn't seem to be convinced of that though...

Lobby

The majordomo leads the Twi'lek and the 'businessman through the left hand blast door and into a heavily shielded antechamber with a small table, a body scanner and three (rather bored looking) technicians. The lead one (or at least the one with the most colorful uniform) grunts and mutters, "Jackets off, hands on the wall, all of you, spread your legs."

She grunts to two of the guards, a human and a rather out of place looking ugnaught. They start down the line of individuals as they line up. The lead technician turns back to where she is gnawing on a lunch of flat bread wrapped around a vaguely blue colored meat and bright red strands of something vegetable-like, then deep fried. Ethnic cuisine from somewhere.

The Twi'lek swallows hard, obviously nervous as she puts her hands on the wall, her face paling into a very unhealthy shade of blue-green.

Loading Docks

A guard approaches the two interlopers as they approach the loading dock, looking suspicious, holding his carbine at the ready. Before he can speak, Gerst scowls and tries to order the guards around. There's an uncomfortable moment, as the guard look to each other.

Then the guard who approached the two starts laughing out loud, followed quickly by the other guards.

"They told us the comic actors would be showing up, but that... that was great!" the guard's rifle goes down, and he reaches to pat the grim human on the back. One of the other guards looks at Echo, and jeers, "A Kyuzo? Don't you need one of those stupid trash-can-lid hats?"

A fresh round of laughter comes from the guards.