Hey all! I hope you all had a great holiday and an excellent new year so far! Thanks so much for the follows and reviews. I'm hoping this story continues to please everyone!

A special thanks to my Last Ship friend and the marvelous and amazing Sam! You guys are the best!

A list of characters appearing who are not listed on the site:

Lyn Me

Yarna

Neelah

And because I forgot last time, Rystáll Sant

There are also a couple of cameos I didn't name!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my oc.

Chapter 3

The Long One

The same night

Kiya wound her way through the crowd, trying to keep her hold on the tray of drinks. The main hall was much busier than it was a few hours ago; luckily, she didn't have to enter the throne room. Her gaze still passed over the scene, however. Kiya just caught a glimpse of Sarita, dressed in black silk netting, as she made her way up the winding stairs. There was a Sabacc game underway in a room just above the main hall, and Porcellus decided he needed her more than he had initially thought. He had returned to the kitchen after the main meal was served, frazzled. He sent her and Phelgmin with trays of moonshine, whiskey, colored brandy, and wines.

Phelgmin just pushed his way through the crowd spilling out into the hall until his head of dirty blonde hair was no longer visible. Kiya tried to scoot past them as well. A towering Weequay stepped into her path. His broad frame completely blocked her way. His long braids hung to his waist, there was a large blaster strapped to his thigh. Kiya stared up at the back of his head. She took a deep breath, letting it out through pursed lips. She decided not to follow the boy's example in this instance.

She leaned closer, clearing her throat. "Drink."

The tallish Gand beside him turned his head and looked down at her with large insectoid eyes. The metal respirator he wore gave him a cybernetic look, with tubes hanging down and attached to canisters. Kiya remembered being afraid of the first Gand she had met as a child because of that mechanism. He had been one of her grandfather's business associates. He had turned out to be one of her favorites in the end. This one spoke to the Weequay in a language Kiya didn't understand.

The Weequay turned sharply, looking down at her. "Drink?" She offered, lifting her tray a little.

He grabbed a cup of moonshine then stepped out of the way.

Kiya knew he glared down at her as she moved past him, but she didn't make eye contact again. She had already learned the servers in this palace generally caused annoyance if noticed. That was the main reason they tried to anticipate needs rather than being asked. Her gaze traveled around the room. The other girl who had arrived with them sat perched on this knee of Devaronian at the table. She was hardly recognizable in her wine-colored bodysuit and makeup. She met Kiya's gaze, the edge of her mouth lifted slightly, then her attention went back to her companion. Kiya watched the players as she made her way about the room, studying the cards in their hands. Jhabacc was what they were actually playing. She wasn't sure what the house rules were. However, the Skrilling pilot at the table had a card up his sleeve, which was admittedly no small feat for the three-fingered sentient. The Ishi Tib had a shill reading cards hidden in the spectators.

A few other females were present as well. The mostly male crowd made short work of emptying both trays.

Phelgmin stood to the side in the doorway to the throne room as Kiya rounded the corner. He looked back over his shoulder, meeting Kiya's gaze, then forward again.

Kiya followed the direction of his gaze. She tensed as she stepped up beside him. Sarita twirled provocatively to the upbeat tempo of the music. The choreography was meant to draw the watcher's eye to the dancer's curves as they rolled their hips around.

A lead weight settled in Kiya's stomach as Sarita lost pace with the two dancers in front of her and fumbled through a step.

She stumbled sideways again, nearly falling into one of the tables. Kiya's grip on her tray tightened, and her gaze darted to the platform where Jabba the Hutt always held court. One of the patrons at the table grabbed Sarita, pulling her down into his lap.

Sarita pushed away. She found her feet only to stumble forward again. Kiya's gaze reshot to the dais again, her stomach dropping altogether.

Kiya thrust her empty tray into the kitchen boy's hands and headed for Sarita, who danced along staggeringly.

Yarna moved between Sarita and the throne. Kiya wrapped her arm around Sarita's waist.

"Kiya.." she said, as Kiya tried to lift her back to her feet. Saritas slid her other arm over Kiya's shoulder; Kiya grabbed her wrist with one hand, trying to hold her upright.

"Come," she said. "We have to move."

The music's tempo picked up. Kiya just caught a glimpse of the blue-skinned Twi'lek, dancing more dramatically. Her fellow backup singers followed suit. Kiya's attention moved over the platform. She hoped they hadn't been observed. The battered green chest plates of Mandalorian battle armor drew Kiya's attention back. She didn't have a moment to contemplate the familiar figure, however.

Kiya did her best to hold Sarita up as she followed the winding steps down a level. Sarita kept tripping along beside her. It hadn't even occurred to Kiya what she was actually doing until she had crossed the room. She just couldn't. Kiya swallowed, shaking her head. She refused to give the image, trying to form in her head any quarter.

They finally made it to the dancer's pit, and another one of the girls moved forward to help. It was the one with short spiky hair and violet eyes. She slid her arm under Saritas other side, and they dragged her to the nearest vanity chair and helped her into the chair.

Sarita's eyes were closed; head turned to the side. Her legs fell apart at odd angles. Her cheeks were sunken in, and a grey pallor tinted her blue skin.

"Stupid girl!" Melina Carniss snapped, storming into the room behind them. Her blue eyes snapping. "You nearly ruined the show."

The choreographer approached, not waiting for a response; she slapped Sarita across the face when she didn't open her eyes. A purple handprint remained.

The other girl, Neelah, Kiya, thought her name was moved back.

"Go, take her place," Melina snapped at the dark-haired dancer, who hurried to comply. "You filthy stupid child!" the choreographer barked. "You have no idea how lucky you are even to be here!"

Kiya glared at Melina Carniss, she couldn't help herself, but she bit her tongue. If the older woman hadn't pushed Spice on Sarita, she wouldn't be strung out. That was the problem with Spice. One taste and most sentients could never leave the dependence behind without seeking medical help. Her grandfather had told her stories of mine workers he'd seen rescued from slavery. Growing up on Smugglers Moon, Kiya had seen the realities of what Spice could do to someone first hand.

Sarita flopped her upper body over the arm of the chair. Kiya jumped back just in time as Sarita threw up all over the floor.

"Clean it up!" The older woman ordered the younger girl, who cleaned the room. She turned her ire on Kiya next. "You get back to your area before I tell Bob Fortuna you don't know your place."

XxX

Kiya wrung the water out of the cloth and held it against Sarita's brow. "You have to stop taking Spice," she said, wiping the dark liner that had run streaks down Sarita's blue cheeks from her face.

Sarita opened her eyes and started up at Kiya dully.

"If you want to live, you have to stop."

Her yellow eyes fell closed again. Kiya let out a heavy breath. She reached up, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear and her hand over her hair. Kiya sat down on the floor, cross-crossing her legs in front of her. She wiped more makeup from Sarita's face. Kiya had brought the drinks sitting on the table just inside the door like she usually did this time, hoping there wouldn't be many around. She had found the room empty except for Sarita laying on one of the sofas sitting against the wall.

"I don't think she cares if she lives," Yarna d'al' Gargan said from the doorway in basic, startling Kiya. She met the other female's dark gaze. "It happens that way for many who find their way here," she offered as she made her way toward Kiya.

Kiya watched as she made her way to one of the nearby vanities and leaned her hips against the chair in front of it. "Thank you for earlier," Kiya said.

The other female nodded.

"How did she come to be here?"

Kiya shrugged and shook her head. "I don't know." Kiya hadn't asked, and even if they had more time together, Kiya doubted she would have. Survival was easier when you let certain aspects go. Kiya had had to learn to look at everything analytically, even her own life.

Still, she knew why it was so hard just to leave Sarita to her fate.

"You're safe; Melina won't be back anytime soon. She is vying with Rystáll Sant for Boba Fett's attention," her companion said, drawing her from her thoughts.

At the name Boba Fett, her brow furrowed, and the image of the man in the Mandalorian battle armor filled her head again.

"Know the name?" the dancer asked.

Kiya shook her head no. "Is he the one in the mando armor?"

"Noticed him, did you?"

Before she could respond, Yarna went on. "I'm not surprised. Most females do. There's something about a man as dangerous as Fett. It's an aphrodisiac for some and a caution sign to others. Mind you, I would stay as far away from him as I could. He's a ruthless dangerous man."

Kiya filed the name and information away in her head, not saying she believed she'd encountered him long ago when she was still just a child. She hadn't thought of the man who helped climb out the tunnel in a very long time.

"Which are you, I wonder?" Yarna said, studying Kiya closely.

"Smart," Kiya replied plainly.

The Askajian watched her for a moment more, one edge of her lips pulling upward. She turned and leaned close to the mirror and pulled off one of her warts, then another.

She met Kiya's gaze in the mirror. "Jabba says I remind him of his mother."

Kiya suddenly had to clear her throat, horrified. She'd been nonplused as Yarna started removing her warts. Now she was really speechless.

There was a slight twinkle in the other woman's eye as she began wiping makeup from her face. "Most sentients have no idea what to say to that."

Kiya found herself nearly smiling. She might not have noticed so soon, but the scar on the left side of her face pulled tight, causing the tendrils that just touch the edge of her bottom lip to do the same.

"He makes me keep my face painted so no one can see what I really look like."

The Askajians' attention dropped from Kiya's face to where Sarita lay on the lounge. Sarita had fallen back to sleep. Yarna's dark gaze turned more serious. "Your friend is too soft for this life." There was an understanding in her dark regard as she held Kiya's pale one in the mirror. "It would be a kindness for her to find her way out of it sooner rather than later." There was a moment of silence before her companion spoke again. "Go, before you get yourself in trouble with Porcellus. I have to redo my makeup, but she should be fine here after I'm gone."

Kiya nodded. She didn't know if Porcellus noticed her earlier disappearance, but she was not sure she should push her luck. Something also told her Melina Carrniss would tell that slimy Twi'lek if Kiya irritated her enough. Still, Kiya said, "I'll try to sneak back later."

Much Later That Same Night.

Boba Fett rolled his shoulder, stretched his neck, and stood. He stayed there a moment, letting cool air from the repulsors in the ceiling wash over his face. The feeling was pleasant, if somewhat unfamiliar these days. He only enjoyed it for a moment, then lifted his helmet from the stand by his bed and put it back on. Sleeping in his armor was not as comfortable as it had once been. Not that he really slept in anything else, even when he was traveling in hyperspace. His knee was bothering him pretty severely tonight, and that made sleep all the more elusive. It was a reminder that he had lived a hard life while he wasn't really all that old by most standards. He needed to have his knee replaced. He had the credits to have a clone grown, but he had other responsibilities at present, and he'd be down for a few days when he did. He would be defenseless while he was asleep. That wasn't something he would do easily.

Boba grabbed his blaster rifle and made his way to the door, and punched in the code that opened it. He stepped outside, quickly hitting another sequence, and the door locked tightly behind him. His codes changed with every use; it was the only way he was even remotely sure to keep unwanted visitors out, though that wasn't foolproof either. Boba Fett learned long ago not to sleep soundly unless he was alone and secure. That only happened when he was in hyperspace.

Jabba's palace was never completely silent, even when all were asleep. If you listened and Boba Fett's hearing was better than most sentients. It was one of the only alterations done to him as a child, but if anyone listened, you could hear things you couldn't hear when the denizens of the palace were awake. The low hum of the cooling system, the sound of vermin scurrying across the stone and steel floors were just two. Right now, not too far away, the disembodied brain of B'omarr Monk was moving along in one of its brain walkers.

Boba Fett, a man who valued silence, preferred this time of day to the other. He could hear himself think. Boba Fett wasn't a man to second guess himself ever. If he were a different sort of man, he would question if the credits and his plans were worth dealing with this.

He listened to the brain walker for a moment more than headed up to the floor above. The exercise was usually better for his knee than laying there and letting it hurt worse. He reached the landing by the throne room, and the faint sound of light footsteps behind him greeted his ears. They weren't running, but whoever they were, they were moving quickly.

Boba stepped into the throne room. He slid back into the shadows waiting to see who was coming, rifle up but not all the way. Whoever it was drew closer, if they were after him they were doing a poor job of covering their approach. Boba had already ruled out one of Jabba's Gamorrean guards. Gamorrean were too heavy-footed and slow. The steps were too light to be Fortuna as well, and he snored softly away on his own cot near Jabba. It wasn't one of the brain walkers, either. He switched on the infrared in his helmet. The figure was small, but he'd guessed that already. They were also human or near-human.

The steps reached the landing in front of the doorway and stopped. After a moment, a slender figure two or three inches shorter than him moved into the doorway. They hugged the side of the arched frame, scanning the shadows within. Boba silently turned off the infrared as the figure stepped into the room and into a broken shaft of moonlight. It was her, the scarred girl from earlier who'd rushed the Wroonian girl from the throne room. She was either braver than most or stupider. In his experience, which was considerable, the two were often confused.

Boba had thought the young Wroonian girl was nearly at her end. She had been stumbling for the last few steps. The other dancers and the girls from the band tried to draw attention as much as possible.

Another female he had never seen before was suddenly at her side. She quickly helped her upright and slid her arm under the Wroonian girl's side, taking her weight. She wrapped her hand around the Wrooninas other wrist.

The Askajian Jabba had an affinity for, had moved the dancing way from them as they hurried toward the door. Her fellow dancer followed suit. Lyn Me suddenly twirled dramatically, assuring Jabba's attention moved away from the retreating figures.

The scarred girl looked in the direction of the platform again. Her gaze passed over him, then snapped back, her brow furrowed.

Boba watched as she hurried the other female out the doorway.

Only the stupidest sentient creatures put themselves on the line for someone else unless there were credits involved. Especially if a creature like Jabba was involved.

Boba silently followed her movements as she crossed the throne room once again. She kept to the shadows opposite him, moving nearly as silently as he would now. She paused in front of the frozen effigy of Han Solo. A thick braid hanging down her back, her head tilted back. She moved closer, so she was directly in front of the frame and looked at the side. She lifted her hand. For a moment, Boba Fett thought she meant to push the blinking button on the side. She touched the side of the frame and his hold on his blaster rifle tightened. Still he waited, tilting his head to the side, he watched her curiously. If she did intend to free Solo, he would stop her; of course, but right now, he wanted to know what she planned.

She stepped back a second later and looked over her shoulder, peering directly into the shadows that concealed him. The soft ambient light over her head, highlighted the scar on the side of her face. Boba Fett questioned for just a moment if she knew he was there, watching her. She looked forward again a second later, her attention lifting to Han Solo for another moment. She moved away, disappearing through the door hidden in the wall to the right of Solo.

Thanks for reading!