Narvin held back a sigh. Mild insubordination was practically his modus operandi. Even when he largely agreed with a person or a policy, he still felt compelled to push back a little, as President Romana could attest.

At least Mr. Chau, unlike Jabba, didn't consider mouthing off grounds for being thrown into a pit of hungry targs or whatever Jabba's latest entertainment of choice was.

"Am I expected to call you 'sir,' then? It's much better than 'the Mighty Jabba, wise and merciful' I suppose."

He finally picked up his fork again, green food disk still impaled on it, and put it in his mouth, chewed, swallowed.

"I'll keep the advice in mind," he said. Holding his tongue wasn't fun, but being disemboweled by Orions would be much worse.