A myriad of dreams flitted away, melding into a hypnopompic awakening, and soon this too dissipated and faded into the realm of inaccessible memory. Yala Sard could hear the rain rapping gently upon the window, a tender cascade that gave little hint of the stormy day before. Opening her eyes, she could see the first light of morning filtering through her bedroom blinds. Desiring to stand up, she took a moment to gather the will to do so, and then at last arose from her bed. Glancing down at her own frame, she saw it covered in the previous day's clothing. She shrugged, and proceeded towards the living room. There, her Weequay companion was already awake, meditating before the altar of their shared devotion to Quay. Moving past him, she clutched her head as she migrated to the kitchen, where she began to brew a pot of stimcaf. Hearing the bubbling of the percolator, her companion emerged from the serenity of his spiritual discipline and rose to his feet. Turning towards her, he said, "You don't usually drink coffee, Weequay".
"I don't usually get sugar-drunk, either", she said, and groaned.
The Weequay gestured towards the empty couch, and as Yala Sard winced at the sound of a passing speeder on the street below, he said to her, "Come, Weequay, sit down on the couch, and I will bring you your stimcaf when it is done". She obliged, and as she took a seat, he added, "You will notice that the shopkeeper's grandson is gone. Most likely he slipped away in the night. May Quay grant him guidance".
Yala Sard said nothing, but flopped back on the couch, which clang to her sticky skin in the humidity. At length, the Weequay brought her a mug, and she began to gulp down the steaming brown soup. Setting her cup down for a moment, she rubbed one eye, and as she met the Weequay's gaze with her remaining celadon eye, she said, "I don't want to do anything today. No bounties, nothing. Let's just stay here and watch the rain".
"Soon Den Nosil will awaken, and when he does, we must not hesitate to bring him to Quisa", reminded the Weequay.
"Oh, yeah", said Yala, hazily recalling the night before.
"But yes, Weequay", her companion said, "After that we may rest".
They whiled away an hour or two, conversing about the day before, the ways of their religion, and sundry other matters. Yala Sard assaulted her hangover with caffeine, and she stared out at the street, watching the remnants of the rain fall upon the Huttese city. At length, their guest emerged from their spare room. He had not changed his clothes since the day before, and his silken garments were wrinkled and disheveled as he entered the living room, still clutching his black leather bag.
"Good morning!" he cheeped, and then, "Oh my! Is that stimcaf? Could I trouble you for a cup? It normally makes me quite anxious, but I suppose this is quite an adventure, so I might as well live a little".
"You are welcome to some, but you will understand when we ask you take it to go with us", said the Weequay. "Your stay has been enjoyable, but we are anxious to return you to your employer".
"Oh yes, certainly", said the jeweler. "I'm sure Quisa will be glad of that as well!" he chortled.
Coffee was poured into a thermos, and out the door they went. Soon they were back in the speeder, heading out into the streets, where a sense of normalcy had resumed, insomuch as ever there was one on Nal Hutta. They drove for a time, and at last, reaching the edges of a wetland, parked their vehicle and got out. They walked down a long walkway of stone, and soon were at the gates of a sprawling castle. Its gothic architecture jutted up out of the swamp, its ornate spires strangled by creeping vines, and the stained glass windows bore a layer of moss.
Upon reaching the entrance, a hatch in the door opened, and out popped a mounted sentry droid.
"Ah ha!" said the droid, "Krun Sha'ee the Weequay and Yala Sard. Zox has been expecting you".
Yala Sard gave her companion a look, but they continued on as the door swung open. Passing through the familiar halls of their employer's fortress, they came to a door. Yala Sard knocked – once, then thrice, then once, then seven times. They waited, and then at last it slid open.
They entered the room, a sizable library with books in an uncountable myriad of languages that wrapped around the walls, save for one bearing a fireplace, wherein a log crackled as flames wrapped around it. In the direct center of the room stood a large aquarium, populated by fish. At the far side of the room there was also an unmarked black door.
Glancing at the fire, Yala wiped her brow, and said, "Zox is so grandiose. Only he would light a fire in this heat".
As the jeweler perused the books on the shelves, obscure tomes of esoteric knowledge, the Weequay stared into the rich blue light of the aquarium. The long, slender body of the giant pearlfish shimmered as the turquois glow of the tank flowed through its translucent body. He watched its ghastly, skull-like head as it burrowed its way into the much larger sea cucumber, a massive specimen from Mon Calamari, its form a blob as big as a womp rat. His observation of the creature was interrupted as the far door slid open, from which emerged the tank's curator – a nuffin, sharply dressed in a suit of all black, the narrow neck of his ovular pink head encircled by the high collar of his cape.
"Krun Sha'ee! Yala Sarid! At last you have arrived. I have foreseen your arrival". Noticing the Weequay observing the act of parasitism in the tank, he said, "Ah Krun Sha'ee, I see you have met my children. It is a rare pleasure to watch one of them find a new host. Truly their form is a window into the Way of the Force". The Weequay looked up and regarded Quisa's majordomo, and after a moment of contemplation, said, "Many unusual things move beneath Quay's moonlight".
"Quite", said the nuffin dryly. His dull black, beady eyes upon his flat, noseless face,, characteristic of his species, betrayed no emotion, and his meeping voice was also typical in its unassuming tone – and yet like the parasite in the tank, he seemed himself embedded with a vague air of pretension that hinted at an unseen mystery stranger still. Such qualities were unusual for a nuffin.
Regarding the jeweler, the nuffin said to the pair of bounty hunters, "You have done well to retrieve such a gem in Quisa's menagerie. And now – your weequay holiday has ended, and so you are free from the bonds of your obligations to your way. If you like, Quisa is holding one of his sessions tonight. Perhaps you will join us?"
"Another time", said the Weequay. "Today, we wish to rest"
The nuffin waved his hand, and said, "And so you shall, as all beings must". With a flourish of his cape, he revealed a pouch, and opening it slightly, the pair could see a large sum of credits inside. He handed over the reward to Yala Sard. "You will find all that you have been promised here", said the nuffin. "His Grace Quisa Desilijic Vaigig thanks you".
"We thank him, too", said Yala Sard.
Turning to the jeweler, the Hutt's nuffin majordomo stroked the bulbous red ridges that lined his head, three to each side, the only significant growths on his otherwise smooth and rubbery skin, and began to address him. "Quisa wishes to speak with you immediately, but first… we must discuss a private matter". As Yala Sard and the Weequay began to move towards the door, the zeuol held out his hand.
"Wait!" he cried, and they paused in their exit. Opening up his black leather bag, he began to dig through it. "Where is it…? Ah! Here they are". He scooped something out of the bag, and enclosed it in the palm of my hand.
"I always bring this bag with me, you see – it has my electroengraver, and some materials should I ever need them. Quisa has – very particular tastes, you know? – well, you know that. In his studies he came to employ me to craft all sorts of… talismans for him. I mean these things require really precise timing, and all sorts of… incantations, and such. But I thought – I mean you saved me, and you were such good hosts, and so friendly – I snuck to the bathroom… it was the perfect election for the force of your god, with the moon just right… here, take these", and he pressed the contents of his hand into Yala Sard's palm.
Looking town into her palm, she saw two small pendants, spheres of fine silver, each strung on a chain. Examining the orb, she saw that on each of them was written, in Sriluurian hieroglyphs, the holy name: QUAY WHO IS THE LIGHT. She showed her companion, and they remained speechless for a moment. Wordlessly, she hung one of the necklaces around her neck, and another around the neck of her companion. As the talismans dangled on their chests, the pair of Quay's disciples felt the room permeate with their deity's light, and the two of them felt Quay's bonds flow between them more strongly than ever before.
At last, Yala Sard said, "Thank you – thank you. Truly you are a friend to the Followers of Quay. May he bless you for all of your days".
Her companion added, "You are always welcome in our company, a true ally to our clan, and indeed, a servant of Quay's will".
"Very good", said the nuffin, "very good. Many mysteries unfold in the palace of Quisa the Hutt". He raised his palm to the bounty hunters, and as they departed, he added, "May the Force be with you".
The pair made haste to exit the building. When they were at last out of earshot, Yala said, "That nuffin kind of gives me the creeps".
"He is an enigma", agreed the Weequay, "but powerful".
"Well, I'm glad we're not going on any more adventures today" said Yala Sard as they approached the speeder. "You know, we never did get that gamorrean stew. Want to get breakfast?"
Her companion nodded, and they got in the speeder. As they did, Yala Sard added, "We should put that bantha roast in today, though. It will go bad in this heat otherwise".
The speeder took off, and the two Weequays traveled back into the heart of the capital of Nal Hutta. Glancing out the window, Yala Sard said, "The rain has stopped. I almost miss it". They sped into the metropolitan streets, and the beings they passed went about their day, unaware of the love of Quay that filled the inhabitants of speeder that fleetingly skirted by.