"Q'ora! Sweet sister! Light of my Galaxy!"
It was late, or early depending on your definition, when Dex Vas dragged himself through the doors to their shared Mos Eisley domicile, teeth flashing in a charming grin.
"Oh Force, what have you done now?"
Dex affected a suitably wounded expression, staggering back as if she had shot him with her blaster. "Why must you always-" Q'ora cut him off with a raised eyebrow. Dex shrugged with one shoulder, kicking his feet up onto their table. "It's no big deal, sis, truly."
"You lost all your money on the kriffing podracing, didn't you?"
Dex had the decency to look sheepish. "I lost all our money on the podracing."
All their money. The credits she had earned putting up with all the sleemos in Mos Eisley.
Q'ora closed her eyes, breathing deeply and steadily to an internal mantra of don't kill your brother, don't kill your brother.
"We needed that money, nerf-herder, in case the Imps ever drive us off this Force forsaken dust bowl!"
Dex shot her a winning smile. "Anger and name-calling is unproductive, sis" he grinned, seemingly unaware of the way Q'ora's hands itched to throttle him. "What we need is a sure-fire way to get our money back." He waited just a beat before adding. "And a couple of hundred extra to pay off a Toydarian I owe."
Q'ora dropped into her chair, glowering at her twin through a curtain of dark blonde hair. "We're on Tattooine. Short of selling your soul, there's not many ways of making a quick credit."
"When I was in the cantina-"
"I think you and that cantina have done more than enough, thank you" Q'ora snapped.
Dex cleared his throat, hand ruffling his light brown hair into a roguish disarray. "The thing is, Q'ora, I heard that-"
"Jabba the Hutt is hiring?" Q'ora sighed, enjoying the flash of surprise in his seat green eyes. "I heard that too." From several of the aforementioned sleemos in Mos Eisley. "Which is precisely why I don't trust it."
Dex leaned forward, sea green eyes soft with sympathy and apology. "After my bad investments, what choice do we have?"
Q'ora put her palms flat on the table, face to face with Dex. "If this gets us arrested, I'm going to kill you."
_______
Sneers, side eyes, the condescending looks as hands moved away from their blasters. Q'ora had seen it all before, and in places much more impressive than this. Coruscant had been magnificent, Corellia interesting, and Alderaan beautiful while it lasted - a ganster's palace was quite unimpressive after such wonders. And remarkably easy to get into - it was astonishing what a pair of blasters and a wellplaced threat would do for you.
Q'ora weaved through a mass of bodies - Twi'lek, Gamorrean, Rodian, judging by the dented armour even Mandalorian - Dex following behind her like a lanky self-appointed bodyguard. A few well executed maneuvers had them stood before a dias at the end of the throne room (if such a term applied to the dungeon they occupied). A shiver rushed along her body, bile burning at the back of her throat. Upon the dias lay (reclined? stood?) a wrinkled slug-like creature. Its tongue lolled out of its mouth, amber coloured eyes huge and open wide. At its side was a tall, pale Twi'lek clad all in black, his thin hands clasped together in a pose that was either nervousness or subservience.
Q'ora straightened her spine. She had slipped past Imperial Stormtroopers, a Hutt would not thwart her. "Mighty Jabba" she called, loud enough to be heard over the racket the band was making. "I come to speak business."
The Twi'lek (Bib Fortuna as she would later find out) stepped forward at a word from Jabba. "What business could you have with His Excellency?"
Q'ora crossed her arms, inexplicably disappointed. "It's his business, so if he doesn't know then how should I?"
A low rumbling chortle came from the Hutt, Bib Fortuna leaning in to hear what Jabba had to say.
"His Excellency, the mighty Jabba, likes boldness."
"I'm sure he does" Dex muttered under his breath. He yelped gratifyingly when Q'ora jabbed her elbow into his ribs.
"We heard that His Excellency was in the position to favour someone with his trust and employment" Q'ora said, hoping talking enough would distract the sycophantic Twi'lek from listening to the laserbrain she brought with her. Next time, he was staying home. "If that is not the case, or your master has no need of our services" Q'ora nodded to her brother, Dex casually twirling their imperial access codes (liberated from a diplomat who wouldn't miss them, nor would be missed) on his fingers. "I'm sure there are half a dozen others who would leap upon such an opportunity."
Jabba muttered something, surprise hiding under his words. "You are offering to smuggle for me?" he asked, once again via his interpreter.
"Smuggle is such an ugly word" Q'ora chided, tapping a nail on the handle of her blaster. "I prefer anonymously transport." A quicksilver smile flashed across her lips. "But let's not quibble. We'll haul your goods, no questions asked, and if the Imps come across us, there'll be nothing to trace it back to you." Q'ora could tell by the glint in his eyes that Jabba liked the sound of that (or perhaps just liked the look of their access codes - either would do for now, they already slept with one eye open). "Do we have an accord?"
Bib Fortuna monologued about the dire consequences that would ensue should they betray Jabba - nothing Q'ora or Dex hadn't heard before.
"Death, Sarlaac pit, great entertainment. I get it" Q'ora grumbled under her breath, edging ever so slightly away from the repulsive slug. Louder, she said "We won't fail you, Jabba. I have no desire to have a bounty on my head."
________
Four days later, Q'ora and Dex were safely aboard the Vigil, heavy a cargo of spice. In the background, a metallic clunk sounded as their problematic Droid bumped into the walls of the ship, muttering in binary about bad ideas. Yet, Q'ora couldn't complain. Working for Jabba the Hutt would undoubtedly end up with them in a detention centre, but it was a good way to make a pile of money. In the end, they'd get out of it exactly what they needed to. Nobody said it had to be forever.