A Royal Party Girl

Looking around, the Outlander found an alcove where a young woman was holding a drink and dancing by herself. She was wearing a close-fitting white dress with a bejeweled sash around her waist and draping her rounded hips. She wasn't wearing anything underneath the dress by the looks of it, and around her neck was a pendant necklace bearing the sigil of House Organa in finely cut gemstones. Her blond hair was coiled into buns on each side of her head.

"You're a long way from Alderaan," he said, giving her a slight bow.

"What makes you say I'm from Alderaan?" she asked, her posh accent softening her voice.

"Well, the House Organa pendant and those hairbuns are a pretty big giveaway. And you look like some of the Duke's other daughters, so it wasn't hard to guess."

"You know my father and sisters?" she said with audible surprise.

"Not directly. I met him once a few years ago during the succession crisis. House Thul was aligned with the Empire to try and take over, House Organa was aligned with the Republic, it was another proxy war like Balmorra and Corellia," he said. "I encountered two of your sisters in the course of my work there."

"And what is it you do?"

"I'm a bounty hunter."

She sniffed. "My father says that bounty hunters are nothing but mercenary scum."

"Your father's a petty noble on a soft green planet with an inflated sense of his own importance." Despite the harshness of his words, he grinned. He understood the game here - she was looking for a 'bad boy' to slum with. So he decided to play along, and went on the verbal offense.

Her jaw dropped open. "How dare you?"

"I dare a lot. That's what makes me such an effective bounty hunter. See, I don't need rich parents and titles inherited over generations in order to make my way in the world." He rolled his shoulders. "Just brains, guts, and trusted companions. All things you lack."

The girl snarled and tossed her drink at him, but the glass went wide, smashing against a wall. A small maintenance droid chirped and emerged from the alcove, knocking the girl off balance as it moved towards the broken glass. The Outlander caught her before she could fall, and held her close to him. "I hope you're not allergic to mercenary scum."

"Get your hands off me," she said, but made no effort to get free. "You're nothing but a rude brutal thug."

"And I'm the only person you've met that tells you the truth, because your money and heritage mean nothing to me. So, do you really want me to let you go?" he asked.

She bit her lower lip. "I'm not sure."

"I'll give you a minute to think about it."

She leaned in closer, resting her head on his broad chest. "Is this how you pick up all your women?"

"No, only the spoiled brat princesses," he said, caressing her back through the white silk of her dress.

"I think the bedroom over there is empty," she said. "If you're in the mood for a spoiled brat princess, that is."

The Outlander reached down and gave her ass a playful slap, making her squeak. "I can spare you a few minutes."