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Chapter Two

The Infernal

Eight days later.

Kiya reached up, brushing an errant hair from her flushed face as she stepped into the busy kitchen. She moved out of the way of another server; Kiya sat an empty tray on the stack by the giant sink to the right of the door. The air was hot in here; it was almost appealing to dunk her head in the soapy water within, but honestly, it was hot everywhere in this infernal place: day and night. For once, the thin material of her clothing was a blessing. She kept her hair pulled back and off her neck as much as possible and no longer wrapped her feet, despite the sand covering the floor.

She turned, briefly meeting Porcellus brown eyes as she grabbed another full tray from the table. He stood in front of the stove, as usual, working on some concoction to whet the Hutt's appetite. Tonight he would roast dune lizard on the spit in the great hall at Jabba's request. She headed back out the door. Surprisingly, enough things weren't as bad here as she thought they would be. Well, not in the kitchen. Porcellus wasn't here of his own volition either; he'd been a chef of some repute in his old life. Even so, he managed a staff of nine. He wasn't cruel either. In Kiya's experience, slaves who had any control used that power against any they could. It was like it made them feel better about their own situation. Porcellus wasn't one of those sentients. She wouldn't call his behavior precisely kind, either. He was always harried and on edge but still had the patience to show you how to do things. He gave her a pallet in the kitchen corner. Porcellus and Phelgmin slept in the kitchen also. The bed was because part of her duties included starting the kettles to heating up early. No matter the reason, it mattered little. She didn't have to sleep piled up with the others like nearly everyone else did.

The din of the throne room grew louder as Kiya approached, drawing her thoughts to another. Sarita hadn't been so lucky. Melina Carniss was not kind, not even passingly close, and Sarita had not adjusted well. Kiya's stomach tightened sickly. She knew what was going to happen if Sarita didn't begin earning her keep. She had heard the beast below the throne room and caught a glimpse of it as it's keeper sat on its foot as it sat and ate. Just the memory nearly made her gag. Luckily Sarita wouldn't be dancing at this time. The knowledge made Kiya breathe easier. In the last eight days, Sarita hadn't stopped taking the Spice Melina offered from what Kiya saw. Instead, she took it more and more. Survival in a place like this required using your wits, but Sarita was too afraid. Watching the girl was like watching a macabre tableau that you were helpless to stop.

Kiya shifted her hold on the tray in her hand to see the steps as she descended into the throne room. Sy Snootles sang as Max Rebo's Jizz band performed another upbeat number; the three backup singers moved to the beat and harmonized perfectly. Kiya didn't know any of their names besides Sy and Max. They'd arrived yesterday. The Theelin, however, was one of the most stunning sentients Kiya had ever seen. She eclipsed her companions. Her vibrant red hair and pale speckled skin kept the attention of most of Jabba's patrons firmly on her.

Kiya skirted away from the large grate in the room's center as much as she could as she headed for a booth on the far side of the room. The Askijian dancer, Yarna d'al' Gargan, had told Kiya what actually happened to the last two serving girls.

Kiya reached the table placing the platter of Gorg egg beignets in its lighted center along with a plate of stuffed gizzards and two large bowls of custard. Kiya was confident she did not want to know what was in the yellowish-brown fare. She didn't look at any of them, just turned and headed to the next table, placing the same food on its top as well. Kiya did as Taroga, the young male server who had first shown Kiya about, told her. She moved to the edge of the room, scanning the denizens present to see if anyone needed anything. The idea was to anticipate their needs as often as possible.

Tonight Porcellus was serving beetle broth, roasted Dune Lizard, vegetable crepes, and a meat salad of some sort. Dessert was cream of mint and ladies fingers, whatever that was, and peach pasties.

Kiya looked about the room, making sure no one was in immediate need. She turned, hurrying around the corner and down the stairs.

"Ah, there you are, Kiya," Porcellus said as she entered the kitchen a short time later. His voice booming as usual. He laid his spoon on the stove and stepped away, wiping his hands on his apron. "Come." He moved toward the counter near the sink and the row of crates sitting there. He opened a box. "I need you to go through these and wash them. When you're done, I'll show you what to do next."

Kiya moved to the sink and washed her hands before she began sorting through them, one by one. She placed the ones without soft spots or bruises in a large colander and set the damaged ones to the side.

"I need someone to stay mostly in the kitchen tonight and dish up dessert and take the dancers their repast." He passed Kiya a peach. "Phelgmin can't do it."

Kiya didn't ask why; she just nodded. The kitchen boy honestly creeped her out a bit. She had found him lurking outside the dancer's pit, peaking through the cracked door, chewing on his nails. When she entered, two of the dancers were nearly naked.

"Toroga will help you as much as he can, but I will need him and the others in the throne room as much as possible," Porcellus said, bringing Kiya back to the present.

She nodded.

XxX

Later That Night

XxX

Boba Fett stepped into the smaller arched doorways that led to Jabba the Hutt's throne room and paused. The smell of roasting meat had been teasing his nose since he left his quarters. His standard EE-3 carbine rifle in his hand, he surveyed the room before him. He had been gone from Jabba's Palace for nine days escorting Jabba's great aunt Jiliac on family business, and it would appear Jabba had acquired a new dancing girl in his absence.

As far as Hutts went, Jiliac was a preferable companion to her nephew. She insisted Boba dine with her every night. And when he declined the offer, she surmised it was because of his "anonymity." She had insisted he set with her anyway, saying she was sure her nephew paid Boba sufficiently to warrant he humor her. She had asked him when the last time anyone had seen him without his helmet was; he had replied they weren't alive, so it didn't matter.

As far as Boba knew, dining with any Hutt wasn't an appetizing ordeal ever. Jiliac had more manners than her nephew, even when she ate her own bowl of live amphibians.

She found Boba's hand in the destruction of Shell Hutts amusing and him a mystery. She'd asked questions that he hadn't answered, and apparently, his silence had spoken loudly enough.

The last thing she said to him was she wondered just how much her nephew underestimated him.

Truthfully Boba Fett had little taste for companionship of any kind. Hutts notwithstanding. Most sentients need to chatter or to state the obvious irritated him. He was here for one reason and one reason only. That was only in part because of the credits. He was confident; Jabba overestimated his loyalty.

His attention returned to the Wroonian girl. Boba had no interest in physical relations anymore, but he still admired beauty when he saw it and the Wroonian girl was worth looking at. She was nearly as lovely as the Theelin, watching him intently as she danced and sang across the room, beside Lyn Me and the Rodian. The Theelin hadn't looked away from him since he stepped into the doorway. As soon as the song finished, she would find her way to him. So would Lyn Me; she always did when she played at Jabba's palace. Boba had saved her and several of her fellow villager's lives when she was a child.

The new slave girl had Flawless blue skin, brighter in tone than Lyn Me, dark hair, a lithe frame, and possessed natural grace. She twirled gracefully on one foot, the long braid of hair whipping around her shoulders as Max Rebo and his band played. Bib Fortuna and Melina Carniss had outdone themselves this time; she was sure to find her way to the end of Jabba's chain soon. Boba didn't have to use the macrobinoc's built into his helmet to see how glassy her eyes were either. Spice. She was hopped up on it. She wouldn't be the first of Jabba's dancing girls to develop a taste for it. Boba abhorred the use of Spice in all scenarios. He had no use for anything that altered one's perception. Spice could be preferable to dwelling in the unaltered reality of Jabba's Palace for a weak creature incapable of rescuing themselves.

Wroonian were soft creatures whose homeworld was in the inner rim. They weren't suited for life out here. Her time was borrowed as soon as she stepped inside.

Boba stepped down off the step and made his way around the edge of the room toward Jabba's platform. Alert to everything happening around him. Jabba had ordered a feast to celebrate Boba's return and the success of his aunt's trip.

Boba stepped up onto the platform on the right of Jabba. Behind him, Jabba's cook roasted a giant dune lizard on the spit.

"We are glad you are back, Boba!" Bib Fortuna said, appearing at Boba's left elbow. "You were missed," the pale Twi'lek nearly gushed, in his native tongue.

Boba understood him well enough but did not respond. He was confident the Twi'lek hadn't meant missed. Bib Fortuna would've been happier if Boba Fett had met with an accident. The dislike between the two was mutual. Truthfully, Boba had little use for sycophants in general. Fortuna wasn't quite as unctuous with his praise as The Assembler, but Boba Fett thought he might just like him less than the arachnid middle man. And that was no small feat.

"Is there anything I can get for you, Boba?" The Twi'lek asked. "Would you like me to have a meal sent to your room?"

Boba slowly turned his head and stared at him through his visor. The twi'lek flushed under his silent regard.

"If there is anything," Bib offered lastly.

Boba Fett watched the Twi'lek walk away. Not that it mattered, but for just a moment, he wondered what Fortuna would say if he knew someone had approached Boba with a bounty for him. Not dead or alive. Dead.

Tesseck, Jabba's Quarren bookkeeper, placed it through one of the legitimate businesses he set up to funnel money from Jabba's criminal enterprises. The Quarren had no idea Boba Fett knew it was him who placed it, but it wasn't difficult to figure out when you made it your business to know certain things. The bounty was only ten thousand, but it was still tempting. Unfortunately, it was best if Bib Fortuna stayed alive for the moment.

The music stopped, and Rystáll and Lyn Me made their way in his direction. Lyn Me always sought him out as a sign of respect for what he had done for her village when she was a child. Rystáll Sant sought him out for other reasons. She was an exotic beauty. Boba listened to her and even talked to her for precise reasons.

Rystáll and Lyn Me reached him. The former of the two stepped up close to him, placing one graceful hand on his right chest plate. She leaned seductively closer. "Boba, I was afraid I would miss you this trip."

He looked at her but said nothing for a moment. "I am here," his voice sounded harsh and unused in his own ears.

Her full bright red lips curved upward, and she nearly batted her eyelashes. "You could accompany me to the pit?" She questioned, her voice laced with innuendo. Beside her, Lyn Me cleared her throat.

This was not the first time the redhead made such an offer. She did nearly every time he was near her.

"Kei'nata tun, Boba Fett," Lyn Me said respectfully like always. She spoke in her people's tongue and lifted both palms up facing him.

Boba nodded.

"Come, Rystáll, let us leave, Boba Fett. We will be performing again shortly."

Rystáll beamed up at him, running her hand across his armor-plated chest. "Until later then," she said and sauntered away.

Xxx

Kiya carefully plated the peach pasties, just as Porcellus had shown her. Making sure she didn't break the crusts. Next, she used a small mesh colander to sift a slight sheen of powdered sugar onto them. Porcellus had shifted things around and had no plans for Kiya to be in the throne room unless he sent for her. She was to finish dishing up desserts as he had shown her and serve refreshments to the dancers and the band in the dancer's pit. At first, the news had made her antsy; like maybe she had done something wrong, and that was why she wasn't serving in the main hall; then, it was a relief.

As the revelry grew, she could hear it even in the kitchen. Her mind shifted to Sarita, an uneasy feeling filling the pit of her stomach. Kiya shut it down. It was easier not to think about her at this moment. Kiya moved to the other tray she had begun preparing previously. She already placed several bowls of sliced Veejy Fruit on it. The delicacy was a late addition to the menu. Porcellus wasn't sure it would arrive today. When it did, he'd had her prepare enough for the band and the dancers. Veejy fruit grew on Sy Snootles homeworld of Lowick. Coincidently the spiny oblong fruit was one of Kiya's favorites as well. Maybe it was more the memory that went with it though she loved the taste of the tangy-sweet fruit. Her grandfather had taken her to Lowick not long after he'd taken her from her uncle's home. Kiya stilled for a moment as the beginning of a memory took her. Her grandfather's hearty chuckle, the feel of the salt spray on her cheeks, the smell of the sea air, the sunshine on her skin. She was running along the beach, giggling loudly. Powder blue eyes as pale as her own danced with mischief as her grandfather chased after her. The little girl from Smugglers Moon had never played on a beach before that day.

Kiya pushed the memory away and the ache forming in her chest. Stealing herself, she reminded herself, memories really had no place in her new life. Kiya began filling cups with Corellian wine Porcellus had given her and snifters with brandy, one of which was warmed.

It was for Sy Snootles, herself. Porcellus said she always requested warm brandy when she was performing at the palace. It, like gargling with salt, was good for your throat.

When she finished pouring the drinks, she lifted the tray and headed for the Dancers Pit.

Xx

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A/N: Hey all, I hope you had a good holiday! Thanks so much for the reviews and follows and faves. The muse for this story is plentiful, and I hope it stays that way.