"I told you she was a dancing girl!"

"Oh, shut up!"

"Enough, pilots!"

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A collar with metal studs was around Cyonta's neck, and a chain with silver links connected her collar to a bracelet the Hutt on the dais wore. It was a heavy collar, but Cyonta tried not to let it burden her dancing. If Ksala the Hutt thought Cyonta wasn't dancing well enough to his liking, he would punish her. Cyonta shivered from where she sat perched on the edge of the dais. Ksala didn't give her much slack in the chain unless she was dancing, and even then not much. He liked to keep Cyonta close, his personal favorite. Ksala kept Cyonta in an outfit much like the one she had worn to practice dancing with Rikla, except there was less of it, if that could be possible.

Ksala gave a sharp tug on the chain, and growled something in the Hutt language. Cyonta never had learned how to understand it, after her two years at Ksala's palace. The loyal gold protocol droid that never left Ksala's side translated it. "The noble Ksala the Hutt requests that his favorite dancing girl perform," he said in his proper voice. Besides, the droid probably translates it into more polite terms.

Cyonta slid off the dais, and listened to the music for a moment with head cocked before starting to dance. She twisted and spun, throwing her head back and making her tattooed lekku swing, bending in ways some might think suggestive. It was what Cyonta had been taught, and she'd been taught to please her masters. Many enjoyed just watching a Twi'lek girl dance, if they danced well, and Rikla had been a very good teacher.

Though Cyonta was Ksala's favorite, and called upon to dance most often, she did get tired. After a while of nonstop dancing, Cyonta retreated back to the edge of the dais, wiping sweat from her face. A light green Twi'lek girl took her place, spinning in time to the music. Ksala could spend days just watching his girls dance, Cyonta knew, and as soon as she was refreshed Cyonta would be called upon to dance more. She slumped wearily on the edge of the dais.

After dancing five times more, Cyonta was exhausted. Luckily, Ksala needed his beauty sleep, and made his whole court rest while he did. Including his dancing girls, Cyonta was thankful. She curled up into a ball on the dais, laying her head atop her arm. She watched as Ksala dropped off right where he sat, and as various other denizens of the court retreated to rooms deeper in the palace. Ksala's most trusted retainers, as well as his bodyguards and slaves, stayed in the main chamber. Cyonta frowned, noticing something. Ksala usually retired for the night quite late, this was earlier than normal. And it usually took him a while to settle down. Cyonta felt a rising hope, but quickly suppressed it. She'd had enough of disappointments.

Cyonta was just starting to drift off, when Cyonta felt a light tap on her arm. She raised her head. The hope she'd suppressed started rising again, and as much as she might try, Cyonta could not tell herself it wasn't the right night.

It was the gold protocol droid. T-3PV, called Piv. "Mistress Cyonta, there you are," he said, whispering as best he could. Cyonta nodded, glancing around. It was dark, and shadows cloaked everything. Cyonta found it hard to see much of anything, except murky forms. The droid in front of her Cyonta could barely make out, close as he was. Cyonta squinted. Behind the golden droid was another form, short and squat. She frowned. What is that…? The form moved forward, coming closer, and Cyonta heard a low whistle from the dark shape. She reached out a hand, stopped when it encountered a metal dome. Aha. I didn't know he would be coming along…

"R2-V3? Pet?" she whispered. "Is it you, Pet?" The shape, revealed to be a silver astromech droid, beeped a soft affirmation. Cyonta turned toward the protocol droid, a questioning look in her emerald eyes. "Piv? What is Pet doing here…?" Cyonta inquired quietly.

Piv's arms gestured toward Pet as he explained. "Oh, yes, Mistress Cyonta, I forgot to tell you." He made a dismayed sound. "I'm terribly sorry. Pet asked, last night, if he could come. I have no idea why. Pet is indeed a queer little droid. I will not be responsible for him…" Piv trailed off as Cyonta waved it away.

"It's fine, Piv," she murmured, patting Pet on his silver dome. The little astromech was one of the varied droids at Ksala's palace; he was put to work with the maintenance on Ksala's massive gravsled. As Piv had said, Pet was indeed a queer little droid. It could definitely be said he had a mind of his own. Cyonta certainly wouldn't mind having Pet along, and thought he might even be a great help.

"It is time, then?" she asked softly. The protocol droid nodded, and Cyonta let a smile cross her face. Tonight, finally! After all that planning and preparation, it's tonight! A surge of elation filled her. Piv had been the mastermind behind Cyonta's whole plan. He had a streak of compassion in him, sympathy for captive beings. Feelings like that were rare enough in a Hutt's court, and even rarer in droids. It was the droid who had first approached Cyonta, asking her if she would rather be free of the Hutt. The notion of going her own way, doing something other than dancing as a slave, was new to Cyonta, but she listened to the golden droid's tales. Eventually, the droid and her came up with a plan of escape. A plan for Cyonta's escape. The gold droid insisted on staying with Ksala's court; why, Cyonta did not know, but the droid assured her it for good reasons. The plan was simple, really, but then the complicated ones always fell through, or something would go wrong. Simple was best. Now, after those long months of planning, success was sweet.

Cyonta grasped the chain around her neck, holding a length of it taut and motioning for Pet to come closer. He approached, one of his various mechanisms outstretched. There was a sharp buzzing noise, and the chain came free in Cyonta's hand, dangling from the collar still on her neck, but not attached to Ksala's bracelet. Cyonta nodded her thanks, and, holding her breath, crept off the dais, the fluttering growing stronger. Pet followed, making surprisingly little noise as he wheeled along after her.

Cyonta was still holding her breath when she made it out the side door. She'd purloined a blaster from a sleeping Gamorrean; she'd need one on the streets of Nal Hutta. Cyonta hoped the protocol droid wasn't finding any unforeseen difficulties in the rest of the plan. She had to get away from this planet as quickly as possible, knowing that if anything went wrong, Cyonta would find herself back in the Hutt's clutches. After all her work, Cyonta did not want this to be the end of it. Pet whistled softly, reminding Cy that he was there. Pet had been so silent Cyonta had nearly forgotten he was there. She supposed that was a good thing.

Ksala's palace was located at the edge of the main city, Vam Rhal, though not quite in the city itself. The palace was actually built on a rocky outlook over a swamp, making it difficult to walk right up to the palace door. Luckily for Cyonta, they'd made provisions for this. A SoroSuub X-34, an outdated model of landspeeder, was waiting for her in the shadows. Cyonta wished she could have gotten ahold of something faster, but oh well. She helped Pet up onto the droid socket on the back. Next came for what Cyonta considered the most dangerous part of her plan. Any small noise might wake the sleeping Hutt or any of his court, and the landspeeder was noisy, but it was the only way Cyonta could get across the swamp and away from Ksala's palace. She hoped Piv was finding the time to slip something stronger in Ksala's drink.

Seating herself in the landspeeder, Cyonta turned on the power. The landspeeder hummed to life, luckily not as loud as Cyonta had feared. She revved the engine, then pressed for full speed. The landspeeder zoomed out across the swamp, and Cyonta glanced back quickly. The palace did not look so fearsome from a distance. Good, I am not followed. Yet. She turned her attention back to the landspeeder, steering carefully. The landspeeder was not as responsive as she might have wished, but oh well. Pet stayed quiet in the socket, for which Cy was thankful. She wouldn't think him to be the type to shriek out when they were flying, but then, some droids weren't very smart, and some were. Cyonta had reason to believe Pet was the latter type.

At the far end of the swamp, Cyonta paused again. The city of Vam Rhal loomed close, bright lights winking in the darkness. Cyonta could hear the sound of speeders zipping through the streets, and the bustle of creatures even though darkness covered the city. She took a breath of the air, polluted from so many Hutt industrial centers, then turned the landspeeder toward Vam Rhal.

It was even noisier on the streets. Cyonta decided to head directly to the spaceport, and get out of the bustle as quickly as possible. It was smelly, too; reeking of garbage and sewers and the general stink of many creatures packed into one small space. Passing many pedestrians walking warily through the streets, a shifty-looking gang on speeder bikes, as well as many beings who looked downright dangerous, Cyonta kept her stolen blaster at the ready. The stares of others, from appreciative to leering, made Cyonta acutely aware of her scant outfit, too. She drove in the most direct route she could find toward the spaceport, which was at the center of the city, she'd been told.

Cyonta knew that to get off Nal Hutta, she needed a ship. And a pilot to fly the ship. From talking with several of Ksala's retainers, she knew that the best place to look for a pilot was a tavern. Parking her landspeeder on the side of the road and locking it securely, Cyonta headed for the seediest one she could find. The sooner I find a pilot, the sooner I'm away from Ksala and this awful planet. Pet whistled, as if in agreement with her thoughts.

* * * * * * * * * *