Cleo kept his silence as the Raiders took their weapons. He kept himself completely still, as if he was a statue set here by colonists long forgotten. The toughs beside him kept themselves back, but calling them 'still' was an overstatement. They still grunted and oinked and shuffled without any grace, and with only the barest hint of discipline. Cleo and the Gamoreans were just as impressed as ever when the Tusken Raiders disappeared as if they had never been.  

Even if he had wanted to answer Leyla's question, he would need to explain far too much in a place where he didn't feel comfortable being at all. He didn't expect her to truly figure out the politics of the region with a short explanation. She'd have to be a Jedi, and everyone knew they had all but died out decades ago. The fact of the matter was, they didn't pay the Raiders nor did the Raiders pay them. It was an agreement between Bogga and the Tuskens. He provides the guns and they attack Jabba's shipments above all others, and it gave some protection for Bogga's own transports. 

Cleo turned to Leyla when he was called in, about to tell her to stay out here. But a look at the Gamoreans and other Aliens, he had second thoughts. 

"Follow me," he told her, and turned to stalk down the path the Weequay had indicated. A small measure of 'the bright side' was that there was a noticeable lack of sand on the wind when they entered the Skiff. The walls looked like they were made of natural stone, lightly carved to provide a curved walkway. A servitor droid poked and prodded at a scrapped vehicle, sparks flying where it's appendage touched.

Further in, they passed four Klatooinians and two humans playing a modified version of Pazaak. A Klat with a scar over its jowls lifted its head and grunted something in its native tongue to Cleo, who waved back. "Glath," He acknowledged by name. The hall soon gave way to a large antechamber that likely filled half of the Skiff's considerable size. Two Rodians were being ushered out by a Chagrian in psuedo-Imperial regalia, who stopped and imperiously gazed at Cleo. His stony expression was a stark contrast to the 
Twi-Lek girls gyrating behind him on the stage.

"Come forth. Bogga has been expecting you," He said, his eyes slapping onto Leyla for but a moment before turning and marching back to Bogga's side. It had to be Bogga. A Hutt, with a dark blue hide and a tan underbelly, currently devouring a strange delicacy of what had to be Bantha and Dewback guts. The meal was inhaled in a span of seconds, and he beckoned Cleo and Leyla to step forward. "Ah, Cleo! My favorite freelancer." 

"Good to see you, Bogga." He said simply, his hands away from his blasters. Even with someone who was trusted, there was always at least 20 blasters in firing distance to protect the Hutt. 

"How is work? Not taking any other contracts I hope." 

"You know me, Bogga. I'll take what I can get as long as it doesn't conflict with your interests." 

The Hutt let out a 'ho ho ho' laugh, shaking his massive belly. "You are always an ambitious one. And what is this?" He pointed at Layla, who was suddenly pushed forward by a Rodian. "Have you brought me a gift?" It was clear what the Hutt meant, or rather, it was clear he meant one of two things as he licked his lips. Cleo held a hand behind his back to indicate that Leyla shouldn't arm herself. 

"No Bogga, this is my new...partner." 
[@Penny]