Eventually the sound of weapons fire dies down. There's still some shouting going on, but the tone is different, less immediate. Yet still you sit and wait. None of these orders are being shouted at you, thus you should be still, be silent, and be beautiful.
Soon a large shadow looms over you, and you look up into the vast face of Jabba the Hutt, your buyer, your owner, your Master. This is a place for your initiative as you bow your head and raise your arms, presenting the remote to him, giving him his rightful control over you. When he laughs at your actions the deep noise reverberates through your body, but he does not seem to be displeased. Indeed, he takes the remote from your outstretched hands.
"Stand," he commands you, that deep voice shuddering your flesh again. But you obey, rising quickly and gracefully. It is only through obedience, to your master and your training that you have that grace right now, the fire fight has rattled your young nerves badly.
"Why did you not run?" he asks, the question surprising you, but the honest answer flows freely from your lips.
"Because I am a good ****," you reply.
"Were you afraid?"
"Yes."
"Are you afraid of me?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
You don't pause, your eyes remaining respectfully lowered as you answer your Master, this being who owns your whole life and future, whose very voice can make you tremble and whose strength would surely let him crush you.
"Because I am a good ****."
Jabba's laugh fills the platform before he speaks again.
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