if I’d been D’an, I would have let the group know the facts this way: “I’ve got some bad news. I’m in serious debt to a Hutt and have sold all of you into indentured servitude in the sandy armpit of the galaxy. Once we pay off the debt, we will have to find other gigs in order to get enough money to get the hell off the planet. Working for the Hutt will be the worst job you will ever have.” We didn’t talk to him for weeks after the truth made itself known. We played for Jabba and his companions within the palace.
