Hey all! I hope everyone is well and staying safe! This chapter took me way longer than I planned. Sorry about that, haha! I had planned something different in my imagination than I decided to write ultimately. I'd already started the other when I decided to do this. Thanks so much for the follows and reviews! Y'all make my day!

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Xx

Chapter Four

Beasts of Burden

Bib Fortuna moved in front of Jabba's platform. He bowed down with practiced servile affectation and said in perfect Huttese, "I will send out a hunting party immediately, Your Most Exalted One."

Jabba was dismissive of Bib's show of humility and his words. After all, they were both expected. The Hutt turned his attention back to the Jizz band already playing despite the early hour as he smoked from his hookah.

Bib stood; he glanced at the helmeted bounty hunter standing to the right of The Bloated One before he spoke again. "Your Most Exalted Highness," he began, eyes downcast. His long-fingered hands folded in front of him.

As Jabba turned, Bib Fortuna bowed deeply again, sweeping his robe back. "May I suggest Boba Fett lead the hunting party."

He could feel Fett's attention shift to him.

"It would be a great honor for him to do so," Bib explained, careful to keep his voice convincing, "after the honor you bestowed on him so recently."

Fortuna had finished pleased with himself. He'd felt like he had just produced the winning move in a long match of Dejarik.

No one wanted to hunt the large lizards who lived in holes in the rocky cliff face twenty klicks southeast of the palace. Not only was the terrain difficult to navigate, the dune lizards often died in their holes and had to be dragged out. And doing so was not easy. The parties naturally left well before the suns lifted over the horizon to catch them as they sluggishly left their burrows to find the light.

Bib was pleased when Jabba agreed. If Fett failed with the job, that was all the better. Jabba's unreasonably timed requests had sent more than one sentient to meet whatever pet he currently had in his pit. Bib didn't honestly believe Jabba would try to throw Fett to his current attraction. He couldn't be so lucky, nor was it likely to work. Still, it wouldn't hurt the bounty hunter to feel some of Jabba's displeasure. It might be slow in coming like it once was for the Corellian encased in carbonite in the great hall, but it could happen. Even Boba Fett could find himself on the other side of Jabba's temper.

The Bloated One received word this morning of the successful acquisition of a large and prolific Spice mine. To be clear, by acquisition, Bib Fortuna meant hostile takeover. Jabba had also inherited the problems with the Rebel's determination to liberate the workers. Not that he hadn't been dealing with that same problem already. There was a movement to break the workers free.

The Rebellion was growing and would become an issue if they somehow defeated the Imps. Bib couldn't see it happening; the Empire was too vast.

They paid little attention to the Hutts at present. Bib wasn't stupid enough to believe that wouldn't change, but they weren't likely to impose laws against slavery when it was of such great use to them. They were more likely to pose broad taxation or make it unlawful to purchase any but from them. One of Bib's first plans was to pick up the legitimate business' the Quarren bookkeeper had set up for Jabba's finances and start more. One's that could not be traced in any way to Jabba Desilijic Tiure or any other of the Hutt criminal enterprise. That in no way meant he planned to leave the illegal practices behind.

Tonight Jabba wanted roasted boar and more dune lizard. Bib grew rather more pleased with himself as he made his way down the dusty corridor to the kitchens.

He had suggested Boba Fett lead the group because Bib wanted to remind Fett who really wielded power. Jabba might favor the bounty hunter, but Bib could still manipulate things to his whims. All one needed to do was sprinkle a healthy dose of humility into your dealings and remind Jabba of his greatness.

Bib had pointed out it would be good practice for when Fett went to capture a Krayt Dragon. That was part of the two hundred and fifty thousand credit deal between Jabba and Boba Fett. Jabba had renewed his call for any listening to capture a Krayt Dragon to fight his Rancor. Bib actually expected that would happen sooner rather than later. A Great Dragon wasn't likely, but the capture of one of the smaller cousins that traveled on four legs was possible. And if Fett failed to be the one, it was one more black mark against him.

Abo had stopped this morning as well; he had six Massiff's. Given the line of Bantha's they'd been leading as well, Bib silently questioned precisely where they'd gotten the beasts. Both creatures lived in the wild and were kept by the Tuskens—one for transportation and the other for hunting. And Tusken Raiders weren't known for liking outsiders or being particularly friendly. It mattered little, however. Bib also doubted if the Mos Eisley slavers assistant would tangle with Tusken Raiders and live to tell of it.

Abo also had Colo Claw Fish. Where he had procured that on Tatooine was another mystery. It was one Fortuna cared little for, just as the how and where Abo had gotten the Massifs. The Colo Claw Fish was a delicacy of only the small eggs of the Colo Claw Fish. Bib had purchased it as a surprise for Jabba as he had the Massiffs. They weren't a Krayt Dragon, but the six should at least put on a show.

He was currently on the way to the kitchen to announce the change in tonight's menu to the chef. Porcellus wasn't going to be impressed. Bib planned to keep the chef, he was one of the best in the galaxy, but he also intended to have someone else deal with him as much as possible.

XxX

Bib Fortuna stepped into the kitchen to find Porcellus at the large nine burner stove across the room. The stove burners were all lit. The aromas of many different foods filled the air.

"You will be cooking boar and dune lizard." He said without preamble from just inside the doorway.

Porcellus turned, pulling his chef's hat from his nearly bald head, and bowed deeply. "Yes, Your Worship." He wrung his hat in his hands.

The show of respect on the chef's part Bib liked very much. Especially from a man whose Terms of Indenture meant he would someday buy his freedom. Not that that would ever happen. It had been merely the only way to make the sentient cooperate. He even told others he was a free man.

"But I have already started preparing the meals for the day." Two watery blue eyes lifted to Bibs, then quickly dropped back down.

"His Greatness has requested roasted boar and dune lizard," Fortuna replied.

The chef straightened up, his face pinched with anxiety. "I have none of either." he wouldn't. Jabba would only eat wild fresh-killed game. "The time to hunt and clean….."

Bib cut the humanoid off. "Would you like me to tell our Most Exalted One you cannot fill his request?" Bib Fortuna asked, knobby Twi'lek brows lifting. There was no mistaking the threat in his conversational tone.

"No! No!" The other man exclaimed.

"We must always do as our Majestic Jabba wishes. I have taken care of procuring the beasts. You simply need to have them prepared by Jabba's eighth meal."

A movement in the doorway pulled Bib's attention from the anxious Porcellus to the new slave girl as she entered the room. She held a large crate of some exotic fruit in front of her. Without looking at him or Porcellus, she hefted her burden onto the closest workstation. She placed her hands on her hips and blew a piece of hair from her face.

Bib had seen her rush the wroonian girl from the hall two days ago. If she were intelligent, she would stay as far from the other girl as possible. Lovely though the Wroonian girl was, she wouldn't last long.

"You should not interfere with the dancers," he said. A pair of grey-blue eyes lifted to meet his. There was a spark in her pale eyes that made him think she might have expected this.

Porcellus cleared his throat. She glanced at the cook then belatedly bowed her head, folding her arms behind her back.

"You will be punished if you do so again."

"Yes, sir," she said, meeting his gaze briefly before it dropped again. Bib watched her closely for a moment.

"You will instruct your girl how to address us appropriately," he said to Porcellus, his gaze still on her bent head. "Or you will both be responsible."

Kiya kept her head down until Bib Fortuna had turned and began walking away. She watched from the corner of her eye as the Twi'lek moved away.

"Kiya?"

Kiya's attention turned to Porcellus. Her brow creased. Kiya had questioned if Melina Carniss told that slimy pile of oozing bantha fodder as she threatened. Kiya knew now she did. She'd also expected anger from Porcellus, and the lack of it surprised her. Concern creased his brow.

Kiya opened her mouth but found she quickly closed it. She suddenly had no idea what to say.

"The Wroonian girl?" the chef asked.

Kiya nodded, yes.

Porcellus studied her with his blue eyes for a moment. "Be careful, Kiya."

Kiya nodded again.

"Don't make him mention this again," he said earnestly. "Bib Fortuna enjoys reminding us all he can do as he pleases. With no provocation, he could tell Jabba what you did."

Kiya didn't need the cook to say more.

"I already suspected as much, " Kiya said. She had met others like Bib Fortuna. Though, she hadn't thought that Porcellus would be held accountable as well.

"And always remember to bow your head and address him as "Your Worship.""

Kiya nodded again. She would do so, though the words would be difficult to muster. Surprisingly, Bib Fortuna was the first servant in a household she had ever come across that wanted to be called by a title.

"Leave the fruit and finish those dishes so you can help prepare for the shift in the menu."

Kiya watched as he turned away and then made her way to the large sink near the door she'd just entered through. She plunged her hands inside the soapy water and began scrubbing one of the large pots with a cloth. Her thoughts shifted to Sarita. She hadn't seen her since really late that night. So late, it was actually the early hours of the day. That was always Kiya's favorite time of day as a child. Nar Shaddaa never really slept. There was always the soft humming sound on the Smuggler's Moon, even at its quietest. Kiya had loved that noise. When she was very young, she was afraid of what might be out there, lurking in the steam and night. Then her cousin abandoned her in one of the worst sectors, and she had to find her own way home. She had been far braver afterward and had met a friend that night she wished she had left Nar Shaddaa with years later after her grandfather's death. Roa had told her after her grandfather's funeral; she could come with him if she wanted to. Kiya wanted to believe her uncle when he welcomed her with open arms. Kiya understood now. Roa had seen all along that her uncle only wanted her for what her grandfather had left to her.

Kiya had watched for his familiar old face and head of grey hair for nearly two years after she'd been sold and traded into this life. She'd watched for any familiar faces. There were others she knew would help her as well. Then she'd understood, if she were going to find her way, she would have to do it on her own. She came from independent-minded, stubborn, and tenacious people. She was intelligent, and she would survive.

Kiya was, however, afraid Sarita would never find her way. With the largesse and over-imbibing of spirits the night before last, the dancer's pit had still been mostly empty. Besides Sarita, the young girl who attended the dancers and only one other had been present; both were fast asleep.

The girl woke up and said, Yarna had asked her to keep an eye on Sarita. She said Sarita had woken and drank some water, but that was it. Kiya had sat with them a little while. She couldn't shake the sick feeling swirling in her stomach already as she watched Sarita sleep. They had only been here for ten days. If Sarita had already succumbed to Spice use, there was no way.

Kiya lifted the pot out of the water so she could see the bottom and continued to scrub. Water and soap slipped from her hands and dripped into the water below.

Porcellus had ordered the entire kitchen cleaned yesterday. Kiya had spent the whole day performing the duties of a scullery maid. She had scrubbed the floors, cupboards, and counters with a sour-smelling soap that made her eyes water and her hands chap.

Her back muscles tightened as if in response. She also had a large knot that wrapped around the top of her right shoulder blade.

Porcellus kept the kitchen as clean as he could. He said she would now clean the kitchen like this every week. Her back muscle tensed with the mere thought. However, it was infinitely more appealing than serving the offal that congregated in this place's halls and rooms. The more time she spent in the kitchen, was better. It meant she would be in the lower levels more, helping feeding prisoners, and if she was going to find an avenue of escape, it was down there.

For a moment, Kiya's thoughts shifted to the smuggler hanging in the throne room. His features frozen in fear or pain, his entire form encased in carbonite. Porcellus said he hung there as a reminder of what happened to those who crossed Jabba Desilijic Tiure. He stole a large number of credits from Jabba. The one called Boba Fett had finally captured him and been paid a quarter of a million credits for his efforts.

Kiya had heard of Jabba the Hutt all her life. She'd grown up in the Corellian neighborhood of Nar Shaddaa, the daughter of a smuggler and a mechanic. Her grandfather had worked for the Hutts on occasion; she knew that for sure, but not exclusively. Creed Shesh would not run Spice or people, either. Neither had her father.

Her uncle didn't have the same principles. Verten Shesh also had a questionable relationship with the truth. Kiya would've been far better off if she had left rather than believe him.

Kiya pushed the memories away.

XxX

Boba's jetpack ignited, lifting him. The earth beneath his feet fell away, leaving Jabba's bumbling Gamorrean guards behind. Boba activated the built-in rangefinder in his helmet. His attention was already on the large lizards sunning themselves on the rock face. He fired his blaster rifle, hitting his first target. Boba fired two more shots in rapid succession, killing two more.

The guards that came with him warned that they couldn't take ones back that had fallen from the cliff face. Fett had no intention of taking any back that had fallen, but he also didn't plan to waste his time with useless kills. They had also traveled by an old short-range transport ship Jabba kept in the motor pool.

The guards had had a repulsor sled and slugthrowers. It wasn't surprising how difficult they found hunting these creatures. If he had trusted any of their flying skills, he could have made the job even easier. He would have simply made one of them hold the transport steady while he opened up a side door and shot them and just pulled the dead beasts inside.

Boba Fett had almost gone back inside and roused Dengar. The Cyborg might be mad at him for what happened with Solo, but Dengar valued his life enough not to try and kill him without backup. Boba decided against it for one simple reason, the Cyborg had a nasty habit of not shutting up. The porcine Gamorreans had no more use for conversation than Boba himself did.

Boba landed. He strode toward the transport with purpose. The four guards waiting outside scurried out of his way. Boba Fett heard them follow him in just as he fired the engine. He hit the thrusters lifting the ship from the ground. He brought it around, so they were parallel with the cliff face as they gained altitude enough to be beside the carcasses.

"Pull 'em in," he ordered over his shoulder.

The sound of the first lizard hitting the deck reached Fett in the cockpit as he checked gauges and waited.

Bib Fortuna was trying to make him angry and remind him where his place was when he suggested this. If he ever laughed, Boba Fett might have earlier. If Fortuna thought for one moment, he had the better of him; the Twi was mistaken. Boba Fett enjoyed the cool analytical smoothness of a hunt like this. It took no more skill than needed to pull a trigger. Granted, the lizard might not be sentient, but it mattered little. He hunted sentients that it took as little or less skill to dispatch for that matter. Some would look at this as practice, not that Boba Fett needed any. He was the best at what he did because he never fell out of practice.

His knee had also hurt for the last two days straight, and like the other night, this exercise was preferable to standing in one place.

That thought brought one of the scarred slave girl to mind. Boba Fett doubted he would have thought of her again, even with her rescue of the Wroonian girl, if he hadn't seen her in the throne room later that night. Again her behavior made her intelligence questionable—no rational female sentient would wander the palace alone that late at night. She could have been meeting someone. It was more plausible she was checking on the other girl.

Though it wasn't beyond the realm of possibility that Solo's comrades would plant someone in the palace. Boba Fett fully expected a rescue attempt at some point. Especially since he'd learned the Princess, the Wookie, and Calrissian escaped the cloud city. They thought themselves noble when they were foolish. Worse yet, they had no legitimate right to go against the existing authority. Fett's esteem for Lord Vadar went no further than the credits he sent Fett's way guaranteed, but it was wholly within the Dark Lords' rights to hunt down all of these Jedi and Rebels and execute them. The quicker the Jedi were purged from the galaxy, the better as far as Boba Fett was concerned. The Rebels were like cancer. As long as a single cell remained, it would grow again.

Princess Organa and her comrade's insurrection was futile. They would never take Solo from Jabba's Palace when they did try, either. Boba Fett didn't care what end the Princess or the Wookie met, but he had a score to settle with Calrissian. That was a debt Boba Fett planned to collect on. He let it go in the Cloud City. Solo was the bigger prize, and Boba Fett had let it go. If Lando Calrissian made his way to Boba Fett, all the better. If not, Boba Fett would find Calrissian himself when the time was right.

They left the cliffs behind a couple of moments later, heading a few clicks further into the dune sea. Boba had dispatched three boar with equal efficiency. When they returned to the palace, Boba Fett left the guards to get the kills to the chef. It wouldn't surprise Boba at all if Jabba's prized chef didn't end up a meal tonight himself. It seemed unlikely he could cook the meal Jabba wanted with all the work he'd have to do. Not that Boba cared.

He didn't miss the look of surprise that flashed over Bib Fortuna's face when he saw him enter the throne room again a while later.

Boba walked down the steps and across the room.

"Boba, you have already returned," Jabba said in Huttese.

Boba said nothing, merely nodded his head. He stepped onto the platform in his customary place.

"Maybe we should have Boba always lead the hunts," Fortuna suggested. "He has done it so quickly and efficiently."

XxX

It was nearly time to serve the eighth meal when Phelgmin came to the kitchen. Porcellus sent him. He wanted Kiya's help to serve drinks in the main hall. Phelgmin looked adequately chastised.

Kiya quickly untied her apron, dropping it on the edge of the work table covered in full trays of drinks.

Toroga followed the dirty kitchen boy through the door a moment later.

"Keep the trays full," he ordered the boy as he lifted a full one and handed it to Kiya.

Toroga's brown eyes met her. "Follow me," he said, grabbing his own tray from the table. He immediately headed out the door. Kiya followed.

"Porcellus says we need you to serve drinks in the throne room tonight," he said over his shoulder. "The boy spilled a drink on that nasty Trandoshan bounty hunter, and it nearly cost him his life."

Kiya had seen more than one Trandoshan present, but she supposed it really didn't matter which one he was talking about. They were all creatures Kiya would in no way want to anger. Long ago, someone told her the firstborn ate their spawn mates as they hatched.

When they reached the large arched doorway leading to the throne room, Kiya again experienced her trail through the crowd closing behind the one she followed. This time she didn't speak, just moved closer and cleared her throat loudly. The blue-skinned Rodian blocking her path moved quickly enough. He grabbed a cup of Spatchka from her tray as she passed.

The hall was as congested as the other night. The band played their same style of fast-paced music. Sy Snootles belted out words in a language Kiya didn't understand. One of the male bandmates sang along with her this time. Kiya paused on the steps, looking for Toroga in the crowd. She wasn't sure where she was supposed to go.

She swept the room, her attention moving to the dais as she searched. Maybe Toroga had gone to find Porcellus. She just caught a glimpse of him, disappearing between Jabba's platform and the wall. Her gaze caught on the Mandalorian, where he stood only a few feet away. The blue Twi'lek singer and the Theelin girl stood one on each side of him.

Kiya watched them for a moment. The Theelin touched his chest, smiling in what could only be called invitation. His head followed her as she moved in front of him, dragging her hand across his chest. She gracefully turned, looking at him over her shoulder as she sauntered away, hips swaying.

Kiya remembered herself and moved as well, stepping into the throne room. Rystáll Sant met her at the foot of the steps, lifting a cup from her tray as she moved past. Her large eyes passed dismissively over Kiya as she laughed at something her Twi'lek companion said.

XxX

Boba Fett looked past Rystáll just in time to see the slave girl coming down the steps. Her hair was pulled back like two nights ago, but today he could see her better. He studied her.

Dark smudges marred the skin under her pale eyes like she was tired.

The scar started along her hairline near her cheekbone. It ran down her cheek, it's central mass covering nearly half of it. Long tendrils reached out, just catching the edge of her mouth. His gaze dropped lower, following to where it appeared to fade away at her jawline. He continued to watch her as she moved about the room distributing cups and retrieving others. Someone had trained her well. She moved about virtually unnoticed by those gathered in the room, as any good slave did.

If it weren't for the scar, she would be a pretty girl. It was lucky for her she wasn't. If she were, Bib Fortuna would have made her a dancing girl. Still, there was nothing really remarkable about her. She wasn't much shorter than he was and thin bordering on emaciation like most slaves. Her cheek on the not scared side of her face was hollowed. It was evident she had seen a lot of sun before coming here. There was something familiar about her pale eyes. He dismissed that many people had similar features.

She didn't carry herself like a born slave, but that wasn't unusual either. Many sentients just found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time. Jabba's Askijian for instance. This girl walked straighter than most, even though she made minimal eye contact with anyone she served. She didn't want to be noticed. That wasn't unusual for someone in her circumstance either, but it didn't strike him as fear or survival, which made her minimize her presence.

XxX

Kiya had just finished emptying her tray when she looked up and saw Sarita following another dancer into the room. Melina's slap had left a purple bruise on Sarita's cheek, just as Kiya expected it would. She looked at Kiya's as she took her place on the floor. Her eyes weren't cloudy, like two days ago, but they were flat. Kiya gave Sarita a slight smile of encouragement all the time, knowing it didn't reach her eyes.

Sarita didn't acknowledge the gesture, just looked away.

Kiya held her breath, biting her bottom lip as the music started. Sarita began to move in unison with the violet-eyed dancer beside her, their hips rolling provocatively as they slowly turned. Kiya let out her breath through nearly pursed lips as she continued to watch, relief washing over her. For a moment at least, it appeared Sarita was in control. Kiya pulled herself back to the here and now. She surveyed the room as taught before her attention moved to the dais, and her eyes collided with him again. He was back standing on the platform by the Hutt.

The visor was unnerving. Not that Kiya thought he was paying any attention to her. His gaze most likely followed Sarita and the other girls, like everyone else's in the room. Still, she could see how it could be disturbing at the same time. There was something to be said for seeing the whites of someone's eyes. Well, that was if they had any white in their eyes, she mused. She actually had no idea what species was under that armor.

Her gaze drifted down, catching on the painted signet of a feather on the left side of his chest. The memory of the man she had encountered when she was a child filled her head and mingled with the things she'd heard about this man. The armor was dented and scraped, but the color seemed right. She saw one other Mandalorian in her life. It was in a market on another outer rim planet, years later. She was fifteen. The armor was brown, she thought, and the visor was shaped differently. Whoever they were, they were considerably larger than this one. Her grandfather had given that one a wide berth and hurried her out of the cantina. He had said not all Mandalorians were bad, but trouble seemed to follow them. Kiya had never gotten around to telling her grandfather about her own encounter with one years before.

She came back to the present. Her attention moved back to his visor. This time it felt different; it was like she could feel his eyes on her. Like he was, in fact, watching Kiya herself and not the dancers. As if he was sizing her up as she had just done to him. She flushed slightly, and she pulled her attention away, dismissing the thought.

Thank you for reading!