Battle of the Bulge (Pt II)
A thick rolling steam billowed out the Bath House door way, filling the corridor as a spider-legged droid marched in it's quick patterned ticks passed a pair of dozing Gamorreans, one leaning forward upon his ornate pole arm vibro-axe and the other slumped back against the wall. Their jowls raised and lowered in sync with the tips of their snouts as their heavy breathing neared a snore, peppered with snorts and gurgles, nearly waking themselves as with a quick seamless shift of direction, the metallic octo-pod swung in to the steam filled chamber and skittered off in to the dense vapors.
A pungent incense filled the air while in the far corner a trio of musicians manipulated their odd string, percussive and wind instruments, producing a strangely timed and wide ranging toned ensemble, not necessarily lacking rhythm or tune, just the kind pleasing to most species ear. A seductively attired and exquisite specimen of a Wroonian woman clenched a large palm leaf fan, three or four times wider than her petite frame. Her bronze colored lip cover matching the same natural shade of her glistening eyes. Her midnight blue hair accentuated by her deep indigo skin. She was expressionless and tight lipped as she carefully and slowly waved a gentle breeze upon her master.
Zapata basked in a recessed floor tub of what seemed to be a slowly stewing mud. As the heat bubbles rose, expanded and exploded, they occasionally tossed small splotches of the brown sediment filled liquid throughout the room. The walls were covered in the cooled and dried speckle, fresh layers of condensed and settled moisture rolling down over it. The bulbous creature swirled a finger of one hand in the warm brewing dirt satured water while in the other he daintily pinched the conical metallic end of a hookah hose as the uninhaled exhaust vapors rolled from the tip. He leant back on the elbow of his hose clenching arm against the tubs slightly raised and cushioned out-lining, his eyelids weighing heavy and fluttering. The source of the smoke itself was a rather excessive device, a multi bulbed glass enclosure three meters tall in progressively smaller chambers of refinement that stood behind him, it's inner walls above their liquid line caked with a resinous compound, the smoke feed tube extending in an angle from the lowest and largest section. It was decorated with ornate etchings in ancient Huttese, perhaps the oldest still known written language in the Galaxy, and encrusted with precious metal and gem linings. Upon a kind of rudimentary swing dangled from the ceiling, a kowakian monkey-lizard bore a torch that he occassionally put to a firebox atop the mechanism to keep it churning. The exhaled and unconsumed second hand smoke from his master's indulgence wafting up in a large cloudy path encompassing the space the tiny frail jester alien occupied, fighting sedation himself from it's effects.
The spider-droid paused for a moment, and seemed to almost sigh with it's mechanical body langauge before approaching the Hutt.
*BO-DOOP!* it called out for the massive creatures attention, going unnoticed.
*BOBOOP BOBOOP!* it again hailed in a higher pitch.
"Ooooo, poochala!? [WHAT IS IT?!]" the Hutt bellowed, his eyes finally breaking their spaced out flutter as his elbow lost it's grip and his pose slipped.
"Magaga vuchi sem teppa! [Can't you see I'm Busy!]" he called out while adjusting himself and taking a slight pull from his inhaling tube.
*CHOOOOOOP!* the droid beeped before commencing a hologram. . .
. . .Pachanga Izissi's holo-image emanated from the spider droids flat head-body surface, manifesting roughly a foot above. . .
"BRUDDAH! [BROTHER!]" the miniature blue likeness deeply yelled.
Zapata's eyes widened with surprise as he dropped the hookah hose and seemingly spit out his mouth and lungs full of smoke. He shoed away the female Wroonian attendant and abruptly stopped the three piece band with his frantic hand motions.
"BRUDDAH! Wegah ekko chee chee moola vamash!? Mokash Eldruun eemood chakala! [BROTHER! Where is the fleet I've secured for you!? The Elders demand you move on Kessel at once!]" the holo-hutt continued in a scolding tone.
"Mocha mocha meenee Bruddah! Wogasa midi veemoooo! [Relax relax dear brother, My plan is in motion!]" Zapata responded in his own defense.
"Wogasa? [Your plan?]" Pachanga countered. "Me chooga, tu ahd beecha dumesh, fo deese Kajidii Beemo ahnooka Wekash Eldruun! [I doubt that, but you had better deliver, in honor of Father Beemo and one day for our rise to the Elders!]" he offered the heavily weighted provocation.
"Ooooooo, choomu ichee mala meenee Kajidii! [Ooo, do not lecture me on dear Father!]" the previously scolded Hutt answered now bold, turning the aggressor. "Geemo alla dumesh Xo's Eek tu fo Eldruun! Ahn dee meenee Bruddah mekala bo foovo Izissi! [I will deliver Xo's Eye to the Elders! And then dear Brother, I will be the favored Izissi!]" he proclaimed, now chins raised in pride and motioning to his band to play something upbeat to which they immediately obliged.
"Ooohohohohoho! Doosh meenee Bruddah, Doosh. Ahspeega suuvo mekka unt Nar Shaddaa. Cowaka agama Hoota jamma deeso talla! Nah, golo woogash fo Huttuk Eempeerlio
