Her entire life had become one of servitude—dancing and otherwise pleasing the whims of those who had paid to own her, body and soul.
Twi’lek dancing girls were highly prized throughout the galaxy.
One of the despicable criminals of their own species, Bib Fortuna, had cast his lot in with the highest bidder and acted as a simpering henchman to a crime lord, with no pride in himself or in his people.
Fortuna had purchased Oola and other dancing girls, dragging them against their will to serve Jabba the Hutt. Oola had served indeed, and served well.
Nolaa had dug deep to find details of her half-sister’s time in the Hutt’s palace, even receiving spy-holo images of how well Oola had danced, the grace with which she moved, her greenish skin glistening with sweat, her head-tails flying about like the wind in a storm. Oola had given the Hutt everything he wanted—until one day, on a whim, Jabba had fed her to his pet rancor. The imprisoned monster had devoured Nolaa’s dear half-sister in much the same way that Hovrak now snacked on the hapless scam artist in the cell. Ah well. At least the scam artist was a mere human.
Nolaa felt a twinge of sadness at the memory of her half-sister, imagining how, together, they could have proven themselves to the galaxy at large. But soon she let the grief turn to anger. Nolaa had always found anger to be a more productive emotion anyway.
Finally, the wolfman emerged from the cell, wiping blood spatters from his muzzle and his fur with a self-moistened napkin.
Then he tossed it away, along with the stained apron he had worn to protect his Diversity Alliance uniform. He meticulously combed his black-brown hair and, using a long claw to pick a shred of food from between his sharp teeth, straightened his Adjutant Advisor uniform again. “Now then, Esteemed Tarkona, shall we return to work?”
“Yes,” Nolaa said, stroking her single head-tail and walking back to the private meeting chambers. “We have only a standard hour until I must depart for the grand campaign on Chroma Zed. If we do our work properly there, we can gain converts throughout that system.”
“Let’s hope so,” the wolfman said. “I don’t believe the Chromans are on our list yet.”
They returned to the private chamber, and Hovrak punched his electronic datapad again. “Now then, let’s see…” Another alien appeared in the holographic projector, a blue-skinned goatlike creature with a trio of eyes on stalks protruding from its forehead.
“The Grans, easily distinguishable by their three eyes. Traditionally unreliable, easily bribed, and quickly addicted to drugs or liquors … but shrewd and often underestimated. If we could recruit several, they could infiltrate the seediest cantinas in the galaxy….” The Adjutant Advisor continued through the alphabet.
13
Raaba sprinted ahead on her long Wookiee legs, leading the way to safety as they fled up broken ramps and half-collapsed staircases in the honeycombed warrens of the cliffside stadium. A network of sagging chains draped across the dust-filled crater, connecting to weathered buildingtops in a sinister high-wire network.
Raaba cinched her ragged headband, once bright red but now faded to a dusty carmine, more tightly around her forehead.
She chuffed at them to hurry and continued to lope through alternating islands of sunlight and barricades of shadows.
“Dear me, all this running is beginning to jiggle my circuits loose,” Em Teedee said. “I do wish we could pause so that Raabakyysh could explain a few things. I’m most curious to know why she would allow poor Master Lowbacca to believe she was dead all this time.”
Just then, a series of clattering, rustling noises came from several cliffside tunnels, like the ghostly echoes of long-departed spectators at the great gladiatorial games….
No. Like marching insectile feet with sharp claws and hard body armor.
“Then again, explanations can wait,” the little translating droid said. “I propose that we make getting to safety our highest priority!, “Sounds like more combat arachnids,” Jacen said, panting and puffing as he ran. “Lots and lots of them. This place must be infested.”
“I thought you said they were rare creatures,” Jaina snorted. “They’re a bit too common for me right now.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault!” Jacen said. “They are rare. But combat arachnids were bred for showcase battles in arenas like this one. So I’m guessing that a bunch of them were brought here for exhibition fights. These’re probably feral descendants of the victorious ones left by the Mandalorians when they abandoned this world.”
“Survival of the fittest?” Tenel Ka said, her granite-gray eyes flashing at Jacen. “They seem fit enough to hunt for their own food!”
“Don’t worry, Tenel Ka. I won’t let any of them get you again,” he said. She raised an eyebrow at the very suggestion that she would require anyone to protect her now, and kept running.
Lowie turned around and snarled when he heard something else approach. Something threatening. He pressed a paw against the bleeding gash in his side, ignoring the pain of the wound as he sniffed the air.
As Jacen turned to look, three combat arachnids scurried out of the shadows in front of them, mandibles clacking, deadly spines extended, positioned to fight as a predatory team.
“They’re in front of us! We’re doomed!” Em Teedee said.
A moment later, two more combat arachnids boiled out of the chambers behind them, trapping the companions along the walkway precipice that looked out upon the sprawling crater.
“Oh, no! We’re double-doomed,” the little droid wailed.
Raaba held her battered blaster in front of her. Jacen and Jaina, Tenel Ka, and Lowie each powered up their lightsabers again.
Raaba growled and looked meaningfully, almost apologetically, at Lowbacca, as if she hoped to live long enough to give him all the explanations he desired. She gestured across the bowl of the crater to the broken building tops where her ship, a small interstellar skimmer, waited on one flat rooftop.
Thick, dangling chains stretched out from the wall across the yawning gulf, connecting to the distant tower. The chocolate-furred Wookiee bellowed and pointed urgently.
“You want us to climb … out there?” Jacen said.
Tenel Ka strode to the thick corroded chain and grasped it with her one arm.
“You can use the Force to help you balance, my friend Jacen,” she said. “If you concentrate, it will be no worse than walking on a forest path.”
“Forest path, huh?” Jacen asked with a gulp. “Sure. No problem.”
Raaba bounded onto the chain as the combat arachnids stuttered forward from both directions, their pointed limbs flailing, multiple eyes blazing with hunger.
Lowie bellowed and lunged back at the creatures, sweeping his molten bronze light saber in a broad arc. He lopped off three limbs from the nearest creature as if they were stalks of grain.
The combat arachnid shrieked and staggered backward into one of its companions.
The second, already-enraged monster struck out at the stumbling, wounded arachnid and the two creatures began to rip at each other.
Greenish clots of blood flew through the air.
The other arachnids ignored the distraction, however, and drove in for the kill, focused on their intended victims.
Tenel Ka stood easily on the rusty chain, legs spread, perfectly balanced in her glittering lizard-hide armor. She reached down and grabbed hold of Jacen. “Come, my friend, I will assist you.”
“Hey, thanks!” he gasped. “To show my appreciation, I’ll tell you a joke when all this is over, okay?”
“That will not be necessary,” the warrior girl answered quickly. “Please—I require no such expression of gratitude.”