[h3]Palace of Khulbe the Hutt [right]Khulbe Desilijic[/right][/h3][hr] The Hutts eyes narrowed visibly, even over the holo-transmission. Like all of his species he was instinctively suspicious when someone attempted to flatter his love of wealth. Jast was not wrong, Khuble did have a considerable appetite for wealth, but he was wary of any idea that was not of his own making. "You are always welcome, Jast. You and your crew." Khuble rumbled in Huttese, opening his arms wide in greeting. "I will have a space set aside for your lovely Raven on pad two. I expect you will stay the night as well. Rooms will be made available." He did not wait for a reply as Zura shut the feed off. Khuble dropped his arms to his side and he sat still for a long moment, eyes staring at nothing in particular. High profit margins in his line of work really only meant one of two things, mind altering substances or slaves. Jast was unlikely to be bringing any sort of slaves since it was no secret Khuble already ran his own slaving operation. That left some type of drug or spice. Possibly weapons but there were no shortage of those in the galaxy and the risks involved in running an Imperial or Republic blockade often called for someone far more desperate and foolish than Jast. The actual profit in arms dealing was often touch and go anyway. He had dabbled in it a little bit during the war but nothing since. "Clear pad 2." Khulbe grumbled without looking at Zura. "And have the throne room prepared for our guests. Nothing lavish. Oh, and their quarters as well. Give Jast a suite." Zura gave a short nod and drew a comlink from her belt, speaking rapidly in the common tongue. Her orders, short but concise, would have a small welcome party on hand to greet Jast, led by one of Khulbes favourite dancing girls. He had long ago come to understand that their beauty changed the mood of any lesser race and served as something of a distraction when it came to negotiating with a hutt. Not that anyone ever got a "fair deal" out of a hutt; one did not try to outwit a criminal mastermind. Zura withdrew down the hall to ensure the prompt arrival of the required staff and Khulbe began the laborious process of moving his considerable mass toward his throne room. Even though he was considered rather small for a Hutt he could have called for a repulsorsled but the idea of giving up on moving altogether made him shudder, a sensation that sent ripples along his huge body. He reached the throne room about the same as he heard Jasts ship coming in for a landing. Several heavily armed guards, including a pair of battle droids, had been deployed around the perimeter of the large circular room. The roof was high with a ring of huge windows about thirty feet overhead and topped with an orange tiled roof that also served to collect solar power. Light poured in to illuminate white stucco walls decorated with tasteful artworks from around the galaxy. Alcoves were cut into every portion of the wall between the huge roof beams that curved from the edges of the main floor and up into the vaulted veiling. Those alcoves were filled with comfortable pillows and a few hangers on of Khulbes court. He did not permit many such beings on Nar Shadda, this was his vacation home. Of his favourite dancers all were present save for Nima who would be greeting Jast about now. Khulbe knew Zura has chosen the Twi-lek since she was undoubtedly the prettiest of them all and tended to set the tone for any sort of meeting. Khulbe heaved his immense bulk onto the platform that served as his sitting area. A small table was quickly placed in from of him and a single comfortable chair set so that someone could sit privately with him. In the corner, at his wave, a small band struck up an opera tune popular with humanoids. He found it quite relaxing himself and had spent a considerable sum of money obtaining the musicians who took up the tune. D440 took his station near the Hutts shoulder, the only being or droid who was permitted within arms reach of Khulbe unless summoned. He gave a heavy sigh and reach out a thick arm to take up his hookah pipe, drawing a deep breath in as he waited for Jast. The man and his crew would be disarmed before they were permitted into the room or they would not enter at all. It was nothing personal, but Khulbe truly trusted no one but himself.