"You came for a show, you got yourself a show," Sai whispered to herself. Her headcount began to shift as some people entered, some left, and one was killed. It was like a game of pazaak, but Sai was counting faces instead of numbers. "Flip the +/-5 card and see how crazy this game really gets," she continued whispering. Sai couldn't help but grin at her little joke.

In any case, the headcount began to seem irrelevant. The only people left in the cantina were stupid, dead, or they stood out so much that they had to have been part of this team that datapad had mentioned. Sure, it was a jump in logic, but it was one Sai was willing to take. There was no other explanation for the amount of crazy left in the room.

Sai kicked her knees up and down slightly in her seat, ensuring that her pistols and knives were attached to her harness as they should be. All equipment accounted for, she took a silent, deep breath, settling her composure so she could get into character. [i]Let the show begin,[/i] Sai thought, going over her typical pre-con ritual. She wasn’t planning on conning this fun bunch, per se, but she needed to develop a persona in order to speak to such a diverse group if she wanted to have any chance at some semblance of conversation. All she needed to do was keep a level head.

Ultimately, she decided it would be best to play it safe. And by Sai’s standards, playing it safe meant attempting to take control of the situation and perhaps cool it down. But she was no fool; she knew she’d have to craft her sentences carefully and deliver them perfectly in order to keep everyone happy. Or at the very least, keep them from killing her. Between the three established killers, the Gungan, the, uh, lizard, and the unknown factor that was the Twi’lek, Sai had quite the task on her hands. 

Sai turned in her booth, remaining seated but facing outwards in the cantina. Showtime. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and folding her hands together. Her pistols, holstered each at the waist, and her vibrodaggers, sheathed on her back, stood out to anyone looking her way. With a friendly, but eerily confident smile, Sai began.

“Okay people, before we all end up dead, let’s just address the bantha in the room and admit that we’ve all been invited here for a particular reason. Except for, say…” Sai glanced around the room, careful to keep a friendly face until she found the people she was looking for. She pointed at the few crew members left in the cantina, scowling. “You over there. You just watched him kill someone! Get out of here!” Sai motioned towards the Mandalorian that had ruthlessly executed the Besalisk - Kal, if she heard correctly - and eagerly watched the crew members scuttle out of the cantina. “That’s more like it. Now, what say we try not to get ourselves killed - and I’m referring to you two,” Sai drew one of her vibrodaggers and used the tip to point at Kal and the shirtless one, “and how about we acknowledge the fact that we’re, almost beyond all reasonable doubt, supposed to be working together! So let’s let the death end with this poor sod,” she motioned to the Besalisk, “and at least pretend we like each other, hm?” Sai leaned back, sheathing her vibrodagger.

Turning back to the booth, Sai added as a final afterthought, “Besides, she, uh, has a point.” Yet again, Sai found herself motioning towards someone in the cantina; this time, it was the big lizard in the booth across the way. “If the Crimson Assassin just disabled someone trying to hit on her, shouldn’t you - and here’s a crazy idea - not hit on her? Just a thought, honey.” Sure, she was maybe pushing her luck with that last bit, but Sai was confident that her skill and mastery in social contexts would at the very least garner some support and keep her alive.