Hey all, thanks for the reviews and the follows. I have to admit that I am still super antsy about writing this story at times, so knowing someone likes it keeps me going! This one is a bit shorter than the last two, but they won't stay that way!

Disclaimer: I own nothing recognizable.

Chapter Seven

Children of the Grave

Boba Fett stood off to the side and listened in contempt to Malin's pointless pleas for his life. Malin had set these events leading to his demise in motion himself. His decision brought him here to this point in time, and Jabba wouldn't change his mind. Most Hard Merchandise Boba Fett procured did beg when they thought the end was close. Boba found it repulsive. When the inevitable time came, and he did die, he wouldn't beg. The Kiffer was no different from most of the other fools. He'd proved that more than once since Boba Fett found him. He pleaded and tried to bargain with Boba Fett once he regained control of his nervous processes. Unfortunately, for Malin, he didn't have anything Boba Fett wanted. When he realized that his bargaining wasn't going to work, he had said, "what should I expect from the man who wears the hair of his murdered family like a trophy." Boba Fett had never heard that rumor before. Though most gave him a wide berth, so that wasn't surprising. This story had felt oddly marked coming from a Kiff. If he was a different sort of man, Boba Fett would think fate was laughing at his expense.

The white and brown braids were from Wookies, just as the grated red to orange lines on his helmet represented specific kills.

It wasn't Malin that held his attention, however. It was the slave girl. She stood directly across the room from him. The crowd could smell the promise of blood in the air, and they kept shifting closer, moving her with them as they waited. Boba subtly shifted to the left to take the weight off his right knee.

She was horrified. Lips slightly parted, her skin ashen. Real raw emotion marked her features. These moments, in his experience, were the most telling about who a sentient truly was. Reduce them to the primal, and everything else fell away. The Kiffer, for instance, was weak. He begged and pleaded. But would she? If she were a rebel spy, they would prepare her and educate her about what to expect. She would even know enough to recognize him. She would also have a contact she passed information to within the walls on occasion. That first day he'd seen recognition when she first saw him. She did seem to move about largely unnoticed by everyone.

The young Wroonian girl stood beside her clutching her hand. Boba's attention shifted to the blue-skinned dancer. She was terrified. She gripped the slave girl's hand like it was a lifeline. She was weak, but he already knew that. Her relationship with the Wroonian girl could be easily explained by the rebel's need to liberate and help those more vulnerable than them.

"Jabba wait," Malin pleaded, pulling Boba's attention to him momentarily.

Boba looked back at the girl as the trap door Malin kneeled on opened, and he fell. Eyes wide, more color drained from her face, if that was possible.

Seconds later, the beast roared, and Malin screamed. She squeezed her eyes shut, turned her head, and held her breath. The crowd around them cheered. She didn't open her eyes again or breathe until the noise stopped.

She looked up and directly at him. It wasn't so much fear as revulsion that flashed through her eyes. She found what she'd just witnessed abhorrent, and she was rightly connecting it to him—recognizing him as the deliverer. Something else flashed through her eyes that made him think she had thought he was something else. She continued to hold his gaze for a moment more unknowingly. She pulled herself away a moment later.

Boba continued to watch her as she quickly wove her way through the crowd. If she was a plant, it was better that she mark that connection now. It would deter most sentients from making foolish mistakes, but again Boba Fett didn't see the rebels as intelligent. Once she exited the room, he turned his attention back to the Hutt crime lord and approached the dais. Bib Fortuna lurked behind Jabba's shoulder just out of his line of sight.

"It seems our Boba Fett has served you well again; You're Greatness," Bib Fortuna said, moving to Jabba's side. "But there was never any doubt." The Twi added moments later.

The words didn't require any response from Jabba, who did not give any.

Boba Fett said nothing either. His attention stayed on Bib Fortuna as he made his way across the throne room, one long fleshy lekku hanging down his back. Boba had learned all of his suspicions about Fortuna were true today. His contact had said the Twi'lek had been making inroads with others whose interest aligned with removing Jabba. Some in this very place.

Boba did wonder what his contact would come up with for his other inquiry.

XxX

Kiya let out a deep breath, brushing the hair from her face as she entered the kitchen. She had tried to serve a table just before Fett came in with his prisoner or rather threw his prisoner down the steps. The Ishi Tib at the table had taken the full tray of food Kiya was carrying. She was waiting for him to finish when the Kiffer had landed in the sand at the base of the steps. Kiya had forgotten all about the tray.

She made her way across the sandstone floor to the counter where Porcellus had placed bowls of Poggy Shrimp Etouffee on trays. Earlier, her stomach had growled at the smell. That was no longer the case. She stopped, staring unseeingly at the shelves of spices on the wall as the memory of the man's scream filled her head.

She knew the Kiffer, had no one to blame but himself. It didn't matter if there were mitigating circumstances; owing credits or really anything to any Hutt wasn't wise. They all ended up paying their dues one way or another. Some found it in the cells below the palace, some frozen in carbonite like the Corellian. Others in the belly of the beast.

That was why her grandfather had only worked for them when there were no other options and even less after he'd taken her to live with him.

Toward the end, Kiya had even piloted a few non-Hutt-related runs with her grandfather riding copilot. He'd said a smuggler he would make out of her. What he wanted and worked toward was her going being able legitimate like Roa had done someday. Creed Shesh had bragged to everyone who would listen the first and only time she navigated the Smuggler's Run. He had wanted and planned to was her to take the Serawk, Eighty thousand credits, and get as far away from Smugglers Moon as she could when he was gone. Roa would have helped her. She wanted to believe her uncle. She had stupidly thought what her grandfather left her gave her safety. How wrong she had been.

Kiya took a deep breath and grabbed another tray. Kiya took the back way to the throne room. She'd rather not pass any closer to the pit than she had to, and the tables she needed to serve next were on that side of the hall.

Much later that night

Kiya leaned against the parapet, staring out across the dunes. Porcellus had asked her to come up here and check for any dishes left by the guards before she went to bed. Kiya had been washing dishes when he asked, and he was headed to bed himself. The only other person awake with her was Phelgmin. He was cleaning berries that were part of the morning meal.

Apparently, Bib Fortuna had complained about the kitchen staff not checking and things getting left behind by the guards. She hadn't found any dishes. The hour was late or early, and the rest of the palace had long since gone to bed, including Phelgmin, but Kiya didn't mind. Truthfully she wouldn't have been able to sleep tonight. She tried not to get caught up in the past, but she found herself thinking about her grandfather more since she came here. She hadn't been able to shake the memories since she had seen the Kiffer dropped to his death.

It was tempting to go to the lower level, open one of the blast doors, and walk right out into the barren desert waste. Kiya was confident if there were no guards, she could disable the droid who first greeted visitors. Kiya could possibly be gone for hours before anyone noticed her absence. Especially if she timed her departure with one of the more ruckus evenings. She had a decent sense of direction. She knew Mos Eisley was west. Jabba's palace had a southwesterly approach. There were large dunes and much better cover to the east, but Kiya also predicted much fewer settlements. Between her and Mos Eisley, there were over two hundred kilometers of Worts, lesser Krayts, Massifs, and other wild beasts, raiders, and who knew what else. There were other towns closer, but Mos Eisley and Bespin were the only ones with starports of any size.

Mos Eisley was the most preferable of the two. Kiya ignored the fact she'd spent the last three years of her life in Mos Eisley and hadn't been able to escape. She wouldn't be guarded this time. That didn't remedy the other litany of hurdles in her path. Ackmena would help her if Kiya if she made it to Mos Eisely and asked, but she never would.

Kiya took a deep breath then sighed, chafing her chilled arms for warmth. Her attention swept the view beyond the opening one more time before she turned. Today had only strengthened her resolve not to die here.

Kiya made her way back down the winding stairs as silently as possible. Porcellus might have asked her to check the parapet, but Kiya was sure she'd rather not meet anyone on her way in either direction this late.

She was careful not to disturb the Buboicullaar sleeping chained on the platform. He had moved since she came through a while ago, so he lay across her path. His rows of long sharp, fang-like teeth gave him a look of danger even in his sleep. She had never seen this one turn aggressive to sentients in her admittedly short time here, but he was here for Jabba's protection. Her attention shifted to the darkened throne room, listening carefully. Something snored softly away in the direction of the Hutts platform, but other than that, there was very little noise coming from within. She looked at the frog-dog again, then down the steps. She really didn't want to step over him this time. Kiya moved silently into the throne room, pausing to look about as she stepped in. She'd use the hidden door near the smuggler's frozen body that they used on occasion.

Kiya crossed the throne room as quietly as she could, sticking mostly to the shadows like she had the night Sarita had nearly overdosed.

She stopped again in front of the bronze-colored plate hanging in its frame on the wall. A series of lights blinked and flashed to her right on the frame. These ones indicated the man contained within was alive in effigy— ostensibly a work of living art.

His face contorted, his mouth open, hand curled like a claw. Only he wasn't an effigy living or otherwise. Han Solo is what Toroga called him. The upstart Corellian smuggler, who dared to steal from Jabba the Hutt. Another referred to him as bantha fodder. Another called him rebel scum. The Corellian part is what truly caught her interest. Kiya wasn't sure who was the lucky one, this man or the one eaten by Jabba's pet. She supposed this way meant you might eventually find freedom.

If unthawing him would in any way help her plight, she'd do it. If he'd been frozen for even just a week or two, it might work. Though, it was still risky even then. Even if he were one hundred percent, it would be difficult. She might be able to make it to Mos Eisley with his help, but it was impossible even if he was whole. They would notice his absence immediately.

Kiya's ears pricked as the sound of soft footsteps faintly reached her ears. Her spine stiffened, and she turned her head ever so slightly, looking behind her out of her peripheral. Her heartbeat picked up as she saw the figure dressed in green armor move through a shadow—his ever-present blaster rifle in hand.

Her muscles coiled tightly. Kiya knew many would run, but she forced herself to remain still. The only explanation she had for him letting her hear him was he didn't care if she did. Maybe the hunter was toying with his prey, a voice in her head whispered.

He stopped a few steps behind her. Kiya refused to look, trying to keep her breathing as normal as possible. She just waited.

Every hair on the back of her neck stood up; in the silence that followed. Panic tried to rise in Kiya's chest. She refused to allow it. "Do you suppose he felt it?" She asked a moment later, softly. She didn't expect a response; she just couldn't stand there in the silence any longer.

His type used silence as a way to intimidate; she would never let him see it if she could help it. Tension wove through her body. Still, she refused to move, even as he stepped up beside her.

"Does it matter?" He asked a few moments later, one hand resting over his other gauntlet. The rough sound of his voice startled her, as did the accented tone. It reminded her of the rasp of the door on a ship her granddad salvaged once. They'd had to force it open; it was rough and raspy, from time and disuse.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "Was it at least quick?"

"Relatively." He replied, surprising her again. He was silent for a few more seconds, then went on. "He can't help you. Even if you could figure out what sequence thawed him," and something told Boba Fett, if she didn't already know, she could figure it out. "The probability of him having hibernation sickness is absolute."

Kiya swallowed, then turned, watching his helmeted profile. She continued to stare at him. After a moment, he turned his head in her direction.

Kiya stood there, refusing to look away. If someone backed you into a corner, her grandfather always said never let them see your fear. At the moment, that was easier said than done. Part of her wished she could see beyond the mask. Another part of her said maybe she shouldn't. Perhaps she didn't want to know what lurked behind it. Kiya turned, facing him fully. Her attention drifted down his helmet one more time. It didn't matter if he was the same Mandalorian who had helped her climb out of that trench. Kiya turned and made her way to the door hidden in the wall.

Boba Fett watched her.

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