Chapter Nineteen

Jabba the Hutt's personal amphitheater had been built for a cozy audience apparently, allowing Buffy to stop close enough to the doorway that she could still hear Maul easily and also make a quick exit if someone started firing off shots again all willy-nilly. She slowly put her hands down, partially because it didn't seem like any of the six guards around the perimeter were feeling particularly trigger happy at the moment, but also partially out of a kind of fascinated shock as she took in what must be the Hutt.

His huge, grub-like body was laid out on a dais at the other end of the amphitheater like it was a chaise lounge. He held a blaster loosely in one hand while he surveyed her with big, squinty, mean-looking eyes. Huh, so that's what Obi had meant when he said Hutts didn't have butts...

A visceral pang of almost homesickness shot through her at the thought of Obi Wan. He had been right, she should've waited. But… while she wished he was with her, she was also glad she hadn't dragged him into this mess. It was bad enough that she'd brought Maul and Bal with her. She hadn't expected this amount of prep work on the Hutts part. Not only did he have a heads-up, but someone must've been keeping an eye on her to let him know she'd left Coruscant.

The guards and the Hutt didn't concern her a whole lot – she would've rather have had the element of surprise, but she could dodge blaster bolts in her sleep. Plus Maul had told her the lightsaber could deflect them (part of her was even a little eager to give that a try). The little imp-y things bouncing around Jabba like extras from Labyrinth didn't look like they were something to worry about either. What did worry her was the dark-haired woman on the end of a chain attached to the Hutt's wrist – hands clasped together and chin high, she still managed to look dignified despite the situation. Buffy was guessing this was Shmi Skywalker. Then there was the line of slaves in front of the Hutt's pedestal. All dressed in similar clothing with similar defeated expressions, as if they knew something bad was coming and had nothing left in them to fight it or be scared. Were they supposed to defend the Hutt? Were they human shields?

Jabba's wet, grumbling speech came again, making her glad she wasn't closer. He seemed like the poster boy for "say it, don't spray it". Quiet settled and stretched while she waited with increasing anxiety for Maul to translate. Had she moved to far away to hear him? Had he left? Finally, when things reached peak awkward, she heard him.

"He says your reputation precedes you and has offered to trade the slave woman," Maul said. "You in exchange for her."

Buffy blinked stupidly at the Hutt and his big, wide, gross mouth, curled into a smug smile. Could it really be that easy? He thought he could put some chain on her like he'd done to Shmi and she'd be a good little pet? She could put on that leash, give Shmi enough time to get most of the way to Bal's ship, then choke that bastard to death with that chain.

"Done," she said easily. "Send her over and I'll-"

She'd wonder later how she'd missed him - how he'd gotten this close without her ever noticing he was there. But right then she was so shocked to hear Alec yell "No!" she just froze in horror. By the time she was moving it was too late.


Maul watched in curiosity as the boy ran past him holding an ion blaster of all things. They were popular in the Factory District - where he'd first seen Buffy and the boy, because of the malfunctioning droids - but what he thought he would do with one here was a mystery.

Until it wasn't. The boy shot Jabba the Hutt directly in the face with an ion bolt.

A rare wave of amusement rolled through him (though not so rare as of late) as he watched the Hutt wipe at his face frantically. It wouldn't cause any damage, especially to a being the size of Jabba and at the distance the child was at, but a blast directly to the face still had to sting. And indeed, a mere breath later the Hutt had stopped rubbing his face and shot the boy with the blaster in his hand.

The bolt hit the child in the chest and stopped his forward motion as effectively as a wall would have. Before he could hit the sandy floor of the arena though, Buffy had slid on her knees up behind him – arms wrapping around him and spinning with a spray of dirt so her back was to the Hutt and the boy was shielded by her body.

Her face…

Maul leaned forward, risking exposure as he took in her devastation. She looked down at the still child limply hanging from her arms, his hand dangling just above the useless ion blaster with a look of such helpless horror that he was completely captivated. She repeated his name, "Alec" apparently, a handful of times, each more quiet but more desperate than the last. And then came what Maul had been waiting for.

Fury.

This was it. This was the moment he'd been waiting for, where that vengeful beast he'd glimpsed would be let loose. The blankness of her face was slightly disturbing since she was usually so animated and open with her feelings, but her eyes burned in a way that made his muscles tense with his own instinct for danger. The most interesting thing was the force though. Usually, he could sense it just moving through her in a way that was both odd and natural - not melding with her as it did with most force sensitive creatures, and not avoiding her like it would a null, but just moving through her like dust motes through a sun beam. But now… now there was flurry of activity – dark, feverish activity.

The look on her face and the threat of violence in the air would've made Maul hesitate to engage her, but the Hutt was either very brave or very stupid because he was not intimidated in the slightest when she turned to level that look at him.

"Kill the first."

The order was quickly followed by a blaster bolt and the crumpling of the first slave in the line.

"The next."

Another bolt, another body.

"Make your choice, Slayer."

Maul dutifully relayed the translations, but at this point didn't think they were necessary. The ultimatum was obvious.

"Ne-"

"Stop."

Buffy's voice was rough and tight, just like the furious energy within her ready to be unleashed but held firmly under control. If she let loose now he had doubts she'd even need his help – six guards and a Hutt would be child's play to her in her current mood. Not that he'd mind just watching her deliver carnage.

"Maul, come out."

He stepped from the shadows, watching in satisfaction as the guards shifted nervously and the Hutt lost his smile.

"The both of you cannot stop me before I kill them all. Is that your choice, Slayer?" Jabba asked, aiming his blaster at the slave woman on the chain.

"No," she said after he'd translated and stopped next to her. "The deal is the same. You get me and she goes free."

She turned toward Maul and gently handed the boy over to him. Only curiosity at what she had planned kept him from dropping the child in the sand.

"He's alive. I need you to get him and Shmi to Bal. I'm trusting you with this, Maul. Don't fail me."

There was definitely a threat weaved in those words, but more unsettling than that was the trust. This boy was precious to her and she was trusting his survival to him. Something he was totally unfamiliar with rose in him, similar to pride but… warmer, somehow.

"And you?"

"Take care of Shmi and Alec. Don't worry about me, I'll find a way back."

Something in the force gave an ominous trill at these words and he searched her eyes. For what, he didn't know. He saw determination and the truth she felt at the words she spoke, but… there was something he was missing.

"The smuggler may try to kill me before you return," he said, surprising himself with his reluctance to leave her.

She gave a humorless laugh. "He'll want to kill me, too, once he sees Alec, so at least you'll have company on his shit list."

Before he could say anything else, she spun from him and made her way towards the Hutt, hands held out to her sides.

"Release her," she called as she continued walking forward.

The Hutt barked an order to the guard closest to the woman and a moment later she was free of her chain and being escorted by blaster point toward Buffy. Maul waited for some kind of sign from her for action, for her to grab the woman and the blaster both, for her to do anything except what she did – calmly take the woman's place next to the guard at the end of his blaster. A second of frantic whispering passed between them, too low for him to hear, and suddenly he found himself with a child and a woman and no Slayer.

"She… she said to get us back to the ship and to leave," the woman said, looking distraught. "I told her I wasn't worth this, but…. She said Anikan would disagree. And that this little boy needed my help."

She reached for him, but Maul found himself adjusting the boy so he leaning on his chest – so small he held him with a single arm. Reaching into his robes with his free hand, he pulled out the device to disable the chip in the woman's neck. No doubt the Hutt would've taken great pleasure in detonating it once he thought he had Buffy subdued.

"Let's go," he said, turning with a swirl of black fabric.

"But, what-"

"Do not make her sacrifice in vain. Move."

He shifted the boy again as they closed in on the doorway and was alarmed to feel the shape of a lightsaber tucked into his shirt. Why would she not keep it with her? As an agent of darkness, dread was something he inspired, not something he felt. But he felt it now in a tightness in his chest, a sweat that had nothing to do with the heat. She couldn't be giving in so easily, could she? Not here, not like this.

It doesn't matter, he thought, shaking his head and pausing in the shadowed doorway. I'll get the child and the woman back to the ship, then return to-

His thoughts stopped cold as he looked back over his shoulder in time to see Buffy take two blaster bolts point blank to the chest from Jabba the Hutt. His keen eyes caught in perfect detail the expression of satisfaction on his wide face as she fell, her pale hair floating behind her before blending into the sand as she hit the ground and didn't move.


Buffy awoke like she was coming out of a freezing lake – large gasping breath and a lurch forward, where she promptly hit her head on something.

"Son of a-"

She coughed and gasped a little. Her throat felt so dry, like she'd been in the desert on Tatooine for weeks. Tatooine…

She gasped and jerked forward again, hitting her head in the same spot.

"You've to be kidding me," she hissed.

She tried to raise an arm to rub the sore spot on her forehead, but found her body was less than cooperative. Now that she was more awake, she noticed how achy and weak she felt. What the hell happened? She was so confused and it was so dark, making it worse. Her eyes felt crusty and dry, but they were definitely open. Was she wearing a blindfold? An itch of unease was slowly expanding through her as she finally got her arms to cooperate and lifted them toward her face, only to find that whatever she'd hit her head on extended all the way down over her body.

That little itch of unease unfurled through her into something very close to full blown panic, making her pulse pound behind her eyes as rasping breaths in her dry throat became quick gasps and her hands scrambled around her.

She wasn't blindfolded…

She was in a coffin.

Far, far away, Obi Wan woke with a gasp of his own, the sound of Buffy's screams echoing in his head.