"Let's call it, how you say, a job interview?" he said, with a casual wave of his hand. That phrase, too, could be taken a number of ways. He didn't let Kaylie consider it for long, however, as he continued speaking. "But there will be time for that," he said. "First, I am interested in your stay with the Lucian Alliance." He paused to pluck a moist, sinewy sliver of eel from the plate and drop it daintily into his mouth. It was unfortunate for her that she could smell his breath from this close. "Tell me," he went on, "How is it that a jewel such as yourself came into the possession of a peedunky like Netan? I seem to recall from our conversation this morning that he abducted you. Is this true? And you are a mechanic, yes? Does he make you work for him? Does he mistreat you?"

As they spoke, his long tail curled slowly, inconspicuously around the table behind where Kaylie sat, drawing nearer to her on the other side. "You can speak freely with me, Pateesa."

"In exchange," he shrugged, the cavalier smile returning to his face. The tip of his tail appeared beside her and stroked her bare shoulder gently. "You can have your freedom, or money, or a job, or a ship. Whatever. You see, Pateesa, the Lucian Alliance will not last. I am three hundred years old, and I have seen at least that many Netans blunder into their own untimely, unpleasant deaths. Foolish, impulsive humans. The Lucian Alliance will be destroyed," he repeated, "I'll still be here when it's gone, and you and I will meet again. I guarantee this, as I guarantee you whatever it is you desire as payment. If, however, you don't spy for me, well. As I said, you and I will meet again."

He poured her a tall glass of spiced wine and slid it to her. "What do you say?" he asked, his tail stroking the brown locks of her hair idly as he smiled nefariously at her.

"When I say 'you,' I mean humans, of course. You, Kaylie Winters, could be different. For example, you would be wise to accept my offer. And yes, you will be free to go when I am finished with Netan. Whatever it is you desire, money, a ship, a favor, these are small things for me. A small price to pay, shall we say, for the price that Netan will pay. As for how..." he said with a casual wave of his stubby hand.

"We'll leave some communications equipment for you," he said, "We'll have it stowed in a maintenance panel, perhaps, so you can access it when Netan has you work on his ship. It will broadcast on the same, low frequency as engine intereference, so that none but the finest slicers will detect the transmissions. And I know for a fact, my dear, that Netan can't afford a slicer. He can't even afford a mechanic, apparently, or he wouldn't hold you as his prisoner and he certainly wouldn't come to me to repair his ships for him. As you can see, this was not wise of him."

"But," Njon shrugged, plucking another sliver of eel from the plate, "He is only human." The Hutt's tail, by now, was massaging some of the tension from her shoulders. "Do you like the wine?" he asked, raising his own glass and breathing in its aroma through his large nostrils. The irony of the romantic setting, the music, the wine, the soft lights and visuals on the screen would be apparent to Kaylie now that she knew Njon had in mind only business, not pleasure. It had been simply an exaggeration of the common perception of the Hutts all along, for no conceivable reason but Njon's own amusement at making Kaylie feel uncomfortable. He doubted she would see the humor, however.

"Actually, that's not entirely true," he said, finishing his wine before he continued, "Netan's ships are soon to have an unfortunate infestation of conduit worms. Nothing too serious, mind you. But enough to cause some power outs here and there. It should give you plenty of mechanical work to do on his ships, and an excuse to sneak away and send your reports to me. That, and he'll have to return here for more serious repairs eventually."

"Won't it be nice, staying in touch?" he added, sardonically.

He pulled his tail away at last and then lumbered away from the table, in the direction of the wide door through which she and Netan had entered earlier. He paused and glanced to her as an afterthought occurred to him. "Oh," he said, with a wave of his hand, "We're planting a homing beacon in the corvette that Netan calls the Fury. It will be discovered, of course—that is why I will need your reports. But you can 'discover' it before Netan's people do, and bring it to his attention. It will help to gain his trust, and make him feel that he is now safe." He smiled again, as though he were proud of himself for having devised this scheme. "You will find it in the aft maintenance closet, near the engine room," he said as the door slid open before him. A Rodian and a Weequay stood guard outside, and fell into escort formation beside him as his bulky form receded down the corridor, visible for but a moment until the door slid shut again.

The Togorian—who showed no apparent hard feelings for having had her foot stepped on and nose smashed—finally spoke in broken Basic. "I am to escort you where you wish to go," she said, "Njon insists." And sure he did; it wouldn't do to have Kaylie snooping about the shipyard, but also, Sriluur was a dangerous place on a Natunda night. Especially for a girl dressed as Kaylie was. Whether this was chivalry on the Hutt's part, or whether he was simply protecting an investment, one couldn't be sure. But as long as the Togorian was with her, she would safely get wherever she needed or wanted to go. The nightlife was open to her as well as to Netan, on Njon's tab.