“That’s not a bad start,” Sev said, “but you’ll need a little more to than just a pretty runaway slave to get close to Ghoutta.”  When the conversation had first stated, he’d settled back and ignored it as much as possible. His declarations had been mere politeness, after all, and he had no intentions of actually getting involved in their dealings. But now he smiled as everyone looked at him, seemingly surprised he was still there. “Because<i>he’s</i>a player, and he doesn’t hayve an interest in small-timers. At best, he’d have one of his lieutenants offed to buy her. At wort, he’d have one of his lieutenants kill you and take her.”  He glanced at Jilljoo, letting his gaze linger appreciatevly on her. “Unless there’s more to you than just a simple slave, that is.”<br/><br/>Leaning back in his chair, Sev propped his booted feet up. “But he’s heard of the lovely Jilljoo, and he’s heard of Sevastian Sergovia as well. Because I’ve worked with him.”  A pause. “Well, I financed my last ship through him, a sleek<i>Sphryna</i>I named the<i>Anathodes</i>.”  His expression turned wistful and then hard. “Sadly, the schutta decided he’d rather have my ship and the whole take of my raids than the captain’s share I was paying him.”<br/><br/>Drumming his fingers on his thigh, he suddenly perked up. “Still, when the<i>Anathodes</i>fails to return to port, and when I turn up alive and in company with a promising young smuggler and the delightful Twi’lek he’s set his black pulmonary sacks on, well, he might just be intrigued enough to want to talk.”