The Watering Hole [Socorro] (Conman, Slender)

Bax wasn't amused with her nature statements. Well, either that or he was, but was inclined to show it back by invalidating it. Either way it was a little less welcome in Ervisa's eyes, and the Mirialan diverted her attention back to Doneeda as the flight ultimatums were delivered. The Twi'lek, luckily, seemed utterly irrepressible. She was only mock-offended, and tossed it right back at the human man. Although it took Ervisa a second to decipher it, the burn was truly searing.

"Shit, Bax I hope you brought SPF 6000 in there, because you're getting burned."

She grinned broadly as she delivered that comment, and then high-fived Doneeda.

"This whole thing where we wait outside, I'm a leeeeetle suspicious now Baxie me boy, what if you're just trying to give us fit girls a slip so you can get a nice jiggly handful of Hutt-Butt? More cushion for the pushin'? Slimy yet satisfying? That's the way you like your tail, with extra tail?" The last teasing jibe was accompanied by still more laughter, and Ervisa was internally admitting to herself that this was the most fun she'd had in... A while actually. A pretty long while.

Fact was, she'd been roving and rambling for some time. Last bit of stability she'd had was what? Corellia? Or was it Pantolomin? Well it was a nice sort of momentary thing to immerse herself in, and it felt like having friends. Or alternatively it was a bit like being back in a line of work with decent colleagues. Not something Pantolomin had entailed. Or Corellia really, that fitness center had been a damn pain in the ass. So many yoga instructors and their bullshit...

She missed it. She really did.

By the time Ervi got to her mention of "hutt butt" Donnie was doubled over the console laughing, one hand in front of her mouth, the other ( loosely ) holding onto the controls to keep the Skiff steady. After a moment she stood up to regain better control of the craft, still laughing as Ervi continued going after Bax and his love of hutt poon. Eventually culminating in her and Ervi high fiving, quickly followed by the woman righting the vessel to a correct orientation to avoid crashing into a nearby speeder. 

The Twi'lek had to admit she was starting to like Ervi for more than just her fantastic body...though that was still a big bonus, Ervi was a lot of fun, Donnie surmised. The fact she was getting along with her was something of a miracle, the woman tended to either intimidate people with her outgoing nature or arouse suspicion. That or simply just wound up annoying the hell out of everybody, not that she really cared one way or the other. 

Bax's voice snapped the Twi'lek back from her momentary staring at Ervi's ass and into reality. They, unfortunately, had a job to do before Donnie could try to get into those skin tight pants her green skinned companion had on. She looked over at the man and listened, realizing she'd been driving aimlessly for the past few minutes, and gave a mock salute to the hitherto silent human. Apparently her and Ervi's ribbing had either fallen on deaf ears or simply been ignored. Probably the latter, she guessed, judging by the man's seriousness since they'd started "the job". The Skiff slowly turned south, Donnie still somewhat unfamiliar with the controls, not wanting to jerk them around to much to avoid breaking the skiff...or hurling them all off to a sandy death. 

Zo...Ervi, eef da skiff break an'we ge'stuk inda desert, isay we eatin' da 'Oomon firs, no? 

Donnie asked the Mirilan with a stupid grin, piloting the skiff towards the south. 

To Bax traveling through the desert by land was nightmare, by foot a literal trek through hell, but skiff seemed to make for the perfect experience. The speed and aerial view of a starship, and the feel of the elements on your face of a landspeeder. The even greater scenery to be had once they left the city helped ease the Junker's anxiety a bit.

Bax was still worried about the mission, yet now wasn't so tense as to snap at his friends again. He'd make a point to apologize for being a buzzkill later. That being said, he would still needle Ervi about her choice in music when he got the chance though.

The junker was kind of happy Axanes War College was banned, just so he wouldn't have to hear it so often. Jokingly he considered handing her over to ISB, just so they would confiscate that garbage. The only downside would've be her guaranteed execution.

A rock formation caught Bax's eye on the horizon, and he whirled around to face Donnie. He was surprised to see Ervi having a hushed conversation with her, yet didn't bother to attempt reading her lips. "Hey, take a right at that mesa coming up, and head straight. We'll hit canyon soon."

Ervisa wasn't quite sure what to make of Donnie's offer. As near as she could precisely tell, the Twi'lek had stated more or less that she did intend to ride the flesh serpent, to let the bantha into her Sarlaac, but had also left a very, very implication she'd consider a threesome. It was the sort of honest misunderstanding to be expected of any situation really, like if someone had asked "Where do you keep your sexy clothes," and the answer was "next to the enormous black dildo."

It was unexpected sexuality, but very, very honest.

Yes she'd expected an answer tangentially related to porking, but more along the lines of "Yes, so go find headphones and a movie you want to watch" than an invitation. Maybe it was a cultural thing, Ervisa'd never really been around many Twi'leks. The ones she had, they'd been a very normal kind, almost disappointingly so. Grab caf on the way to work, exercise, diets. The usual 9 to 5 crap. Never any threesome invitations.

It wasn't that she was prudish. Well, probably wasn't. Maybe a little. It wasn't as if she'd looked at Doneeda like a college kid with a plastic cup of beer, internally yelling HEYOOOOO. But she hadn't turned up her nose at her jiggle either, going 'oh dear me, titpocalypse.'

There was a comfortable kind of medium, kind of like her pants. Not dressy. Not 'sit on the couch with ice cream.' She wasn't banking on any boning. If it DID happen, well hopefully there'd be candles? Jazzy music? And hopefully some kind of rule about eye contact or parts-sharing. It was a bit of a logistical dilemma she wasn't really thinking about.

"Yeah, uh, we should probably talk about that later, like when we aren't in the desert with imminent Hutt-matters. Y'know? Just, common sense there. Also uh, rules about carpet-cleaning. Y'know? Limitations. Just... Yeah."

Donnie smirked and nodded at Ervi while she spoke. Her awkwardness was cute and somewhat endearing. Though they were in the desert, it wasn't like Bax was grabbing the hutt-butt quite yet, they still had a ways to go, though that way was becoming more and more obvious as Donnie piloted the skiff. The Twi'lek, however, wasn't a total dunce with social ques, and decided to drop the matter until later, her Mirilan friend obviously not interested in discussing the matter until she was sure they'd survive the rest of the day. She went quiet while piloting the Skiff, getting the Vibe from Bax that things were about to become far more serious, as evidenced by a pair of what Donnie could only describe as "vintage" vulture droids, painted a striking shade of green.

The Boska had found a few on the Munificence Class Frigate they'd gotten through "channels" from the IGBC, and stripped them for parts. They were cheaply built, stupid, and not very well armed, but from what they found during the tear-down, designed to be easily mass produced. Lots of stamped parts, bad welds, loose tolerances. They'd never tangoed with any of them, however, only hearing second and third hand reports of how they could basically turn on a dime and ignore G loading as they didn't have a pilot. That and the fact that their guns, while pea-shooters vs the shielding on most Boska fighters, were easily powerful enough to pop the skiff with a volley or two. The woman was somewhat on edge as they coasted into the hutt's bay, where they wanted them to land fairly obvious, as it was surrounded by...

B-1 Battledroids?

Donnie said out loud in Huttese to nobody in particular, with a quizzical and confused tone, guiding the skiff into the landing area.

B1s were something the Boska were familiar with, having received a few THOUSAND on the Muni they'd gotten. They'd tried to use them as soldiers, which was an abject failure, then tried to use them as guards, which once again ended in failure. They'd tried to reprogram them, but their limited memory and processing power lead to them being so stupid in whatever task they were given that they were next to useless. Eventually, the Boska gave them stun blasters and used them for live target practice, eventually exhausting their supply and calling it a day.

The Twi'lek landed the skiff with a soft bump, and looked around, the droids just standing there, as if they expected them to do something.

"So what do we do now, man?"

She Asked bax across the skiff, before turning to Ervi.

"Ehehehe, den yearz'ago calls, dey wana retarz back, no?"

Donnie said with a smirk, gesturing with her eyes to the derpy battledroids surrounding them

This was far from the ideal situation Bax had imagined when he'd setup the deal, but it was times like this that being flexible helped. Being strapped with grenades was a nice advantage too. The only thing he felt really wary about at the moment was potentially getting Donnie and Ervi killed with a mistake. What his Twi'lek said next made him immediately wonder if her loose lips were going to get them all killed.

After lowering the loading ramp, Bax suddenly turned around just to fire a look of disbelief at her careless statement. Less than a minute in and she's insulting the armed guards. Smooth. It was a relief to see Ervi go ahead with shutting the Twi'lek up with a little pig basic, not that he thought Donnie had ever heard it spoken before. The power of green gash probably compelled her silence instead.

"I know, I know. I'll handle it. Just keep an eye on Donnie." He replied tensely, in an almost annoyed tone, while he kicked on the grav units for the first crate. The Junker it off the skiff within a minute, and in that time a gravlift he hadn't noticed in the back of the hanger had come up and dropped off its passengers.

Joco the Hutt, was as young and small, by hutt standards, as the research had said, yet it failed to mention how "eccentric" he seemed to be. Unlike most of his brethren, Joco bothered to wear a selection of clothes over his girth. The leather vest he sported was covered with buttons and patches from companies defunct even before the Clone Wars started, his large head held an equally large wide brimmed hat and underneath its shade was a large wrap around visor to cover his massive eyes.

All of that aside, the near disturbing trait that stood out the most was a thick man of black hair sprouting around his barely visible chin and neck. Bax had heard that some Hutts could grow hair, but he wished to every god he knew that he'd never seen it in person. The junker winced for a split second, when Joco's first words made his neckbeard jiggle like a fat bantha.

"<Welcomb,welcomb, to my humbbble abbbode.>" He stated in huttese, with a obvious speak impediment, but a strangely reassuring grin. Bax brought the crate within a few meters before giving his host a polite bow. "Thank you, mighty Joco. I beg forgiveness for our late arrival, but I have brought the goods as asked." The junker replied back, before sliding his hand over the release switch on the crate.

After a few seconds on whirring the crate's sides opened, and a row of battle droid were extended out on a dispensing rack. "As you can see, Mighty Joco, I also threw in these vintage administrative droid deployers, at no extra charge." Bax continued, raising his voice slightly, when the crates dropped their cargo to the standby position on the floor.

In unison the droids unfolded themselves, and marched forward to stand behind the junker at attention. The first dozen that had been dispensed were an odd collection of regular troops and officers, but the next group the crate prepared to drop were even more varied. Bax had been studying Joco's face since he last spoke, and he really liked the hutts obviously gushing joy.

With a smile and the snap of a meaty finger, the lift opened again and four commando droids ran out, with the lead one holding a briefcase. The former elite fighting units had seen better days, but were still intimidating to see in action. They came to a halt behind Joco, and the leader walked forward to politely offer Bax the briefcase. "You habe really earneb this money today, I look forbard to furber bbbusiness with you." Jock said next, in a surprisingly thankful tone.

Unfortunately, before the junker could even say his thanks, a familiar robotic voice from behind started yelling, "Roger, Roger." over and over at the top of its artificial voice. Simultaneously the motley company of deployed droids joined in, and there was a unison clanking of weapons being drawn.

"Aw, fuck..." Was all Bax could say, before the sound of blaster bolts filled the room.

Ervisa shifted her attention completely away from Donnie when the Hutt entered, and frankly it stole her attention entirely away from everything. The emerald-skinned woman blinked a few times silently. It wasn't the Commando Droids who bothered her. No, it was the more fundamentally troubling image the Hutt presented. He was right there... As sluggy as a Hutt had to be only... He was wearing a fedora. And a vest with patches... And he had...

"A neckbeard?" She queried to herself, barely above a breath.

The rifle just sort of lay limply in the crook of her arm, and she surveyed the interaction with Bax and the Hutt almost as if she were living through a particularly weird dream. Bax went through all of what she termed 'the Hutt formalities.' Excessive deference, bowing and scraping. But it didn't particularly seem to matter to uh, Gordo? Boca? Loco? The name had slipped her mind unfortunately.

There was a sudden surge of rogering as Bax showed off the droids. It seemed as if Bax's droids and the Honor Guard droids didn't like each other. Or maybe it was Bax's droids and Bax's droids. Ervisa had to admit they all looked alike, and they all simply kept repeating their inbred war cry over and over as weapons came out. And rough as it was with Bax up there front and center, all exposed...

Better attend a funeral as a guest than in the box.

The Mirialan promptly hit the deck of the skiff, about a half second before the shooting began. She did crawl forward though, bringing the rifle out to bear. From that prone position on the deck, she opened up on the B1s, indiscriminately. If it was shooting, she was shooting it.