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Chapter 15

The Harshest of Truths

Tatooine's twin suns were making their burning march across the western hemisphere by the time all was ready for Jiliac Desilijic Tiron to depart her grand nephew's palace. Outside the ship's hull that would transport her to her home on Nal Hutta, dust devils swirled upward from the hard-packed sand. Scurriers darted around on their hind legs, long ears perked up, listening for danger. They sunned themselves scavenging for food or dove down the holes that led to their cool burrows deep in the ground. Inside the hull, the air system was already on, and repulsors pushed cool air down onto those inside the ship, driving the heat back toward the open loading ramp.

"Thank you for the most supreme honor of being your lady in waiting, Your Ladyship," Kiya said with a deep curtesy and affectation that could put Bib Fortuna to shame. She had learned somethings from her mother, who hadn't always been a mechanic. Somewhere behind her, Kiya knew the sleemo Twi'lek watched.

"Jee 'sh suee," the female in question said, a touch of suspicion in her voice.

Kiya lifted her gaze demurely, meeting Jiliacs, then straightened up. "Your Ladyship."

Jiliac continued to hold Kiya's gaze; her own orange one narrowed as she assessed her calculatingly. "Girl," she said a short time later.

Kiya bowed her head, glancing at Boba Fett, where he stood to Jiliacs right out of the corner of her eye as she backed away. He carried his blaster rifle sheathed on his back beside his jetpack like he had the day they'd gone to Mos Eisley. Other than that, he was precisely the same and as unreadable as ever.

Kiya turned when she reached her fourth step backward, walking to the open ramp where she faced them again, waiting. She kept her eyes forward. Her arms behind her back, she held her right wrist in her left hand, watching impassively as Bib Fortuna made his own grand bow and wished Jiliac well with more ludicrous words. Kiya watched Boba Fett out of the corner of her eye again, wishing she knew what he planned to do.

When Bib Fortuna had finished with his own preposterous laudatory of praise, humility, and good wishes, Jiliacs reply was a little more than a tight "hmmm."

His back was to Kiya, one long slender hand lifted gracefully, he maintained his low bow. This was a posture Kiya had seen this orback's ass assume more than once when he was trying to express his own humility. Really all he was a sycophant.

The female Hutt turned her attention to Boba Fett. "Let boll," she said dismissively.

Jiliacs response caused a smirk to pull at Kiya's lips that grew as the Twi' stiffened. She could only assume he was appalled that he was so summarily dismissed. He straightened up, "Gooddde travel," he said in customary farewell. Jiliac only eyed him this time, an almost sour expression on her face as she turned her chair and headed deeper into her ship.

Kiya spun around, bringing her hand up to shield her eyes from the bright desert sun, and started down the ramp. She was convinced as entertaining as she had found Fortuna's dismissal, her witnessing the ignominious affair would come with consequences if she wasn't careful. It was best to make sure she gave no indication she had heard or seen the incident.

Kiya took a deep breath, waiting for Bib Fortuna a few feet from the foot of the ramp. The staggering heat enveloped her. Fett hadn't said, act as nothing happened, but as far as Kiya was concerned, that went without saying. She planned to do so. That, however, made the situation no less nerve-racking. There was no way he saw her earlier. If he had, she would already be dead, Kia assured herself.

Fortuna exited the ship a moment later. The blinding light of Tatooine's suns washed his pasty skin out more, contrasting it with his dark clothing more starkly. She knew her tan had faded, as had the lighter shades in her hair, but she was confident the sun was more forgiving to her than her pale companion. Fortuna's little red eyes were angry, but there was something else there also. A certain smugness that said he had just triumphed somehow, and Jiliac would soon pay for her actions.

"Come," he barked, not pausing as the ramp closed behind him, and the white and grey ship began to lift from the ground.

"There is still much to be done," he added as she fell into step beside him. The most he did was turn his head slightly in acknowledgment that she walked beside him. "You will oversee the packing up and laundering of the linens used in the chamber personally," he continued as they stepped inside the blast doors that led from the landing pad to the motor pool in the bowels of the palace. Kiya glanced over her shoulder, watching the small cargo ship gained altitude and flew away. "Find the Nautolan girl, she already knows what needs to be done and will help."

"Yes," she said, following him inside. They parted ways just inside the door; Fortuna continued on to where she didn't know. Kiya made her way across the motor pool, taking the nearest stairs and hurrying up them.

Kiya left the stairwell two floors above and stepped into the hallway between the kitchen and the dancer's pit at the end of the same hallway where she heard Bib Fortuna plotting this morning.

Kiya continued to the pit. She lifted her right hand, trailing it over the durasteel door casing as she stepped inside. She hoped Yarna was present though, she knew at this hour it was unlikely. Kiya made her way down the length of the empty room, lined with dressing tables and mirrors on both sides. Her reflection passing from one mirror to the next as she walked. Stepping into the dormitory, Kiya paused just inside the door, a smile tugging at her lips. Nola was busy, making up one of the cots in the back of the room, she hummed away softly.

"Hi," Kiya said.

Nola looked up, smiling in return. "Kiya." Nola scooped up an armload of dirty linen in her arms. It nearly blocked her large black eyes as she moved toward Kiya, she dumped her burden into a small hover bin. "Almost done."

"Do you know where Yarna is?" Kiya asked as Nola began to strip another one of the beds.

Kiya moved toward the bed; Nola had just thrown a clean white sheet over as Nola said, "Upstairs."

Kiya grabbed the end of the sheet, slipping its fitted corners over the thin mattress. It was still somehow surprising how clean Melina Carniss kept the pit and the dancers fresher. The cleanliness of the chamber Jiliac had slept in also surprised Kiya. The kitchen was also kept tidy, which left Kiya to wonder if other places were as well. She would assume at least the Quarren's soaking tank was kept clean.

"Nola," Kiya began as they spread the thin blanket across the mattress. "Do you ever clean the private rooms?"

Fett's room would be neat and organize. A creature as controlled as him would have to have things ordered. The memory of his defensiveness over the Jedi came to mind. Maybe he wasn't as controlled as she thought. Or just perhaps she somehow found a chink. Kiya stopped moving; where had that thought even come from.

"No," Nola said, bringing Kiya back to the present.

Kiya bent down, tucking the blanket on her side of the bed into a neat corner. She shoved the thoughts and the questions that came with them away. "When do you suppose Yarna will be back?" Kiya asked, watching as Nola gathered up the dirty bedding.

"Not for a long time," Nola said as Kiya took half of the laundry from her arms.

XxX

A short time later, Kiya followed Nola up the stairs to the chamber Jiliac had slept in. She had caught a glimpse of Yarna dancing in the throne room but hadn't seen Saraita anywhere. Kiya had contemplated asking Nola if she had seen Sarita and how she had seemed, but again Kiya dismissed the idea. It just felt wrong. Children should have no part of this life; it was the responsibility of those who could shield them. Kiya might not be in a position to protect Nola fully, but she wouldn't play a hand in making the child see things her young eyes and mind never should.

The nicer clothing Nola had worn yesterday, were replaced with her customary dark brown tunic and leggings. She bounced along like normal as if her father would be returning home any day. Once again, the knowledge left Kiya with that sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Part of Kiya questioned if making Nola see her father wasn't coming back was the better idea, but she knew it wasn't something she could do. The harsh reality of Nola's situation would catch up with her soon enough. Kiya followed Nola through the door to the chamber moments later and paused. So much for the great honor of playing Ladies Maid, Kiya wondered exactly what Rystall Sant would think of half of the glory, being the cleaning up after their feasting and entertainments.

Rystáll Sant would no doubt believe it served Kiya right.

Several chests had been placed inside the doorway, her attention traveled around the chamber. She had to take down the curtain and pack them away, along with the pillows. The hooka's that were brought up for use during the meeting needed to be cleaned and stored in their boxes. The pool had been opened. Kiya was to see that it was drained and scrubbed out. This was going to take the remainder of the day and maybe into tomorrow. Kiya blew a piece of hair from her face. "Let's start with the pillows."

XxX

The male's body dropped to the floor heavily, and Boba Fett's knuckles stung with the effort. Squatting down beside him, Boba Fett flexed his hand to loosen the stinging pain and pushed the brute to his back. His gaze narrowed as it traveled over his unconscious companion. Boba Fett pulled the shock binders from one of the pockets in his cargo pants and snapped them around the guy's wrists, and pulled the remaining blaster pistol from the guy's hip holster. He dropped it on the ground. There were far easier ways to render someone inert, but sometimes it felt good to do things the old-fashioned way and punch someone. After checking him for more weapons, Boba rested on his haunches and studied the guy's features; he was human or near human and unassuming or far more so than the scarred guard piloting the ship. Course ginger hair stuck out from his head in all directions, surrounding a gaunt, pockmarked face. It was inevitable that no one would lament the loss of his beauty.

Jiliacs' chair whirred away softly as she propelled it closer. "Do we need to worry about the other?" She asked in Huttese. Boba glanced up at her; contempt marked her green wrinkly face and wide pursed mouth. Boba Fett hadn't shared what he learned from the slave girl, but Jiliac apparently caught on to what was transpiring. As for the other guard, he could be dealt with just as efficiently.

"We'll see." Boba reached over his shoulder and unhooked his blasted rifle from his shoulder holster and lifted it in front of him. Grabbing the guard by his ankle and dragged him to the middle of the hold. There was an energy grid built in this exact spot that could create a cage if wanted. Why Jilaic had one installed Boba Fett had no idea. Nor did he care.

Boba Fett was aware that the she Hutt watched him as he moved back across the floor and grabbed the blaster pistol. The sound of his boots on the durasteel floor was the only noise. Boba pressed the safety button beside the loading mechanism that discharged the weapon's energy charge then dropped it on the floor about three feet from where its owner lay. Just enough to make the kriff desperate enough to try and reach for it. Desperation broke most sentients quickly.

"You knew?" she asked.

"I had reason to suspect," he confirmed.

He watched the body waiting for it to rouse. He hadn't hit him hard enough to keep him down long.

"My nephew?" Jiliac asked, trepidation in her voice. A visible shudder slipped across her thick hide.

"No," Boba said, not looking at her. This was going to be the worst part: having to explain things to her. Boba Fett never explained.

She propelled her chair closer. "Who then? Bib Fortuna?"

He remained silent. As much as he believed the girl spoke the truth, there were too many contradictions. He needed proof. He knew she told the truth about this still; he couldn't trust her. There was something about her. It wasn't right.

Beside him, Jiliac let out a disgusted noise. No Hutt angry was a pretty sight. Boba Fett didn't look in her direction, but he felt the anger boiling up. "Wake him up," she ordered.

Fett glanced at her for a moment, then made his way toward their guest as he pulled a small vial from a pocket in his utility belt. Bob Fett squatted down, ignoring the pain shot through his knee. He balanced his blaster rifle across his thighs and opened the small container, and placed it under the male's nose. The ginger choked, then coughed, rolling to his side as Boba Fett sealed the vial and stood, tucking it securely into his belt. He stepped back a few steps and waited.

The ginger coughed and groaned again, rolling away from Boba Fett and into the fetal position.

Boba Fett returned to Jiliac's side as their guest sat up, panicking. He swiveled around; his face grew even more sickly when he saw them. His attention pivoted to the blaster pistol laying a few feet away. He scrambled toward it as fast as he could with cuffed hands, maybe a little sooner than Boba had anticipated, but he let him go.

Pistol in hand, he rolled to his back, attempting to discharge the gun as it came level with them. It made a clicking noise. The male's eyes widened, dropping to the weapon. There were three more clicks as he attempted to fire again in rapid succession. The truth of his situation was sinking in.

Boba rarely used violence when he wanted information. Physical intimidation would generally work if he needed to use it, but that was a rare occurrence. Usually, his reputation did the majority of the work. This time Boba Fett jumped several steps ahead when he drained the pistols charges and left it within easy reach. It quickly dispelled notions of escape when you showed the hopelessness of the situation immediately.

Boba watched the hard merchandise dispassionately; he had just realized all of that himself. The panic that had flashed through his eyes was replaced just as quickly with a flat contemptuous look as he tried to look unafraid. Boba could smell his mounting terror, however.

No one said anything. Fett just continued to stare at kiff through his visor.

"I didn't do anything!" The ginger defended in basic after a few moments. "What.. What is going on?"

Jiliac scoffed beside Boba Fett. "Uba oolan merdah jeesh, then oolaee oukb?" her voice boomed through the ship's hull just as Jabba's would.

The gingers terrified eyes shot between Boba Fett and Jiliac. Boba had planned to let his silence do the heavy lifting. Maybe being faced with an angry creature whose kind ate humans whole when inclined was also an incentive.

"Jee oemand uba tedd jeesh woah sent ubh beet instance?" She demanded next.

The man's eye grew wider; he struggled to his knees, shaking his head.

"Please. Please. I don't understand," the man pleaded.

His fear was reaching new heights. Boba Fett could almost taste it. Contempt wove its way through him. Fear, like its counterpart terror, was indicative of a weak mind and will. That was most sentients greatest weakness. Boba didn't feel fear, but he did respect those that didn't allow it to control them. This male was not one of them. Many sentients like this ones fear had an almost acidic metallic smell, though it did differ by species and blood color oddly enough. It clung to fibers, even non porous material such as durasteel. This one was no different. His stench would linger for days, maybe weeks unless it was cleaned. Boba always scrubbed his cells.

He avoided those in the lower level of Jabba's palace because the stench never went away.

"Tedd jeesh."

Jiliac lowered her chair to the ground, sliding out of it. She made her way toward the sentient. The ginger climbed to his feet, attempting to run. Boba Fett lifted his arm, pushing a button on his bracer, and electricity crackled through the male. He fell to his knees again.

"Ateema uba widd tedd everything jee-jee huujah keekah or jee widd eat uba jeessha," Jiliac said when she reached him. She turned, her larger upper body twisting. "Translate," she ordered.

"You will tell Her Ladyship all she wishes to know, or she will eat you herself," Boba Fett said, his voice rough and menacing.

The prisoner's skin blanched white. His eyes grew bigger. The wave of terror that slammed into him Boba didn't miss. He struggled back onto his knees, lifting his bound hands up toward Jiliac. "I'll tell you everything. Everything you want to know."

She nodded at Boba. He sheathed his rifle again, crossing his arms over his chest. "Who paid you?"

"I..I.." the ginger said, looking over his shoulder or anywhere for an avenue of escape.

"I don't ask twice," Boba Fett said, taking a menacing step in the others direction.

"It was Fortuna. Bib Fortuna." Boba's gaze turned to Jiliac.

"He...he said to make it look like you killed her."

XxX

Kiya placed her hands in the small of her back and arched it, groaning softly. She rolled her stiff neck and shoulder muscles as well, her attention passing around the chamber. They had been at this for two or three hours already and still had much to do. Nola had gone to the kitchen to get a drink and bring one back for Kiya.

Kiya had drained the pool while Nola began packing the pillows. They were neatly contained within the boxes where they were stored, but the pool was yet to be scrubbed. Bib Fortuna came with actual scrub brushes and buckets. He had also shown her the hidden door in the wall that led to a fresher, Kiya hadn't known was there. Frankly, the idea of descending the ramp into that pit and scrubbing it was disgusting.

They hadn't scrubbed the hooka's yet either. They carefully took down the delicate curtains, and Nola showed Kiya how to lower all the dais into the floor.

Kiya just finished sorting through the towels thrown around by the females who had actually played in the pool. It was a shock when Kiya looked up to discover several female retinues of the other Hutt's present, frolicking in the sludge. They'd seemed like mindless pets, almost childlike in their behavior. Kiya had found the entire scene revolting. It had been met with much approval from the three male Hutts sitting around the table. It wasn't just the male Hutts who had approved of the display. Bib Fortuna had watched appreciatively, as had the various guards in the room. If Fett had watched them, she had no idea. Kiya's gaze drifted across the room to where the pedestal with the lightsaber sat fifteen feet inside the door. She bit her bottom lip lightly. The image of him standing there beside it last night with the cybernetic male filled her head, a strange feeling settling into the pit of her stomach. There was just something… Kiya didn't know. The memory changed, morphing into one of how for a split second this morning, he had made that supply closet feel airless. At least, she wouldn't be in such proximity to him anymore.

Kiya shoved the thoughts away, focusing on the stack of crates she needed to load onto the hover sled sitting just inside the door. Kiya made her way to it, letting out a sigh, she picked up one of the boxes and hoisted it on the sled. Once everything was packed, guards or servants would come and help move everything to one of the storerooms two floors down.

"Hey you," a familiar voice said from just inside the door.

Kiya turned, already smiling before she saw Yarna. "Hey."

The Askijian looked around as she continued into the room, two cups of spatchka in her hands. "Here," she said, handing Kiya the cup.

"Thanks," Kiya said, taking a drink.

"I figured you hadn't had anything to drink since you came up here." Yarna offered, placing one broad hip on one of the crates.

Kiya's gaze drifted over friends' painted face, zeroing in on one of the warts near her chin. "Your wart seems to be slipping," Kiya warned with amusement dancing in her eyes. Pulling a straight face, she cocked her eyebrow and deadpanned, "You better not let your sonny boy see that."

Yarna reached up, peeling the fake imperfection from her face, and flicked it across the room.

"Have you ever noticed how weird it is that he tells you you remind him of his mummy, then asks you to wear fake warts and dance for him?" Kiya asked.

The question fell into complete silence in the room then both females started laughing.

Kiya took another drink, laughter fading from her eyes as her thoughts turned more serious. "Have you seen Sarita this evening?" Kiya hadn't seen her since this morning.

"She was with Spiker when I left the throne room a few minutes ago."

Kiya nodded, her brow creased. Kiya hurried toward the open door, peeking outside, then she spun around, hurrying back to Yarna. Kiya grabbed the Askijians arm with her empty hand, propelling her closer to the empty pool. "Bib is making her."

For a split second, the other woman's dark eyes filled with confusion than understanding. She nodded. "I'm not surprised. Let me guess, Fortuna wants her to get close to Spiker and report back to him."

Kiya let out a heavy sigh. "He wants her to have sex with him."

"There is nothing any of us can do for her, Kiya. If she's lucky, Spiker won't hurt her, and he will never find out she is telling Fortuna things. If he does find out, let's hope she dies quickly."

Kiya recoiled from her words' harshness, a sick feeling twisting in the pit of her stomach. Again she knew, Yarna was right. At one time, Kiya would have accepted that without thought.

Some of the hardness around, Yarna's brown eyes faded. "I'm not trying to be mean, Kiya," she began with a shake of her head, "but you know I'm right."

Kiya opened her mouth to protest, that helpless feeling setting in again. Maybe Boba Fett would return, and Bib Fortuna would meet with an accident. Fett definitely had a reputation for seeking vengeance. It was fact tangled up in the things whispered about him behind hands and in darkened corners. You don't cross Boba Fett and live.

At the same time, Kiya knew no matter how gratifying the thought felt, you should be careful what you ask for.

"I know this is hard for you, Kiya, but you aren't new to this life. And she is young, but if you get involved, you might get dragged down also."

A sound at the door drew both women's attention. Nola walked inside carrying a tray with drinks and what looked like food. She smiled at them both. "Porcellus sent you lunch. Bib Fortuna is busy, so if you hurry, you may have time to eat it." Nola placed the tray on the edge of the table.

"What about Nola? Will you be so cold about her someday?" Kiya asked softly, then made her way toward the table.

XxX

Boba Fett stepped out of the hanger that sat next to the Jiliacs home. His gaze lifting upward as Slave 1 made its descent. Boba Fett used his helmet's remote uplink to bring the ship here. He had left it in orbit until he needed it, however. A heavy green mist swirled across the marshy ground. Jilacs home, The Winter Palace, rose high beside it. Built for white stone on a vine-covered island close to Nal Hutta's equator, it was considered beautiful by all the Hutt families and clans. A point of envy with domed transparisteel ceiling and rug covered floor in the great hall and the attached pleasure garden filled with tropical flora and fauna from all over the galaxy. If he weren't stopping on the Smuggler's Moon, he would be back to Tatooine before the first of its suns rose over Jabba's Palace. As it was, he would be close.

"We had best not tell my nephew about any of this," Jilaic said, her chair coming to a stop beside him. They had decided that was the best choice for now, but it was one that still bothered Jiliac.

Boba agreed. Telling Jabba might eliminate a problem, but it was unlikely and there were too many variables. Bib Fortuna might die, but Jabba could also kill Jiliac and blame it on Bib or enlist the Twi' to do it for him. Bib Fortuna would make sure he had a way out.

"Where did you get your intel, or am I allowed to know?"

Boba Fett remained silent, weighing the request. He was still reluctant to share that information even now.

"I need to know, Fett. We are in this together, and it seems the target was the both of us."

"Your handmaiden."

Jiliac was silent; a look of surprise shot through her large orange eyes. "Kiya?"

Boba Fett gave one distinct nod of his head.

"I would appear; I was right about her. She is a better cut than most of you humanoids."

Fett took no offense, but he would question if she was a cut above or stupider. She might have told him the truth this time, but it in no way meant she could be trusted.

"I thought about bringing her with us and keeping her here," Jiliac interjected into his thoughts.

Boba Fett had thought if Jiliac was as she was when he first met her all those years ago, the slave girl would become a prized pet. Maybe not one kept on a chain like Jabba had a propensity for, but one who swam in Jiliacs mineral pond and stood stoically at her tiny right hand.

"Something told me you'd rather have her where you could keep an eye on her."

Apparently, his silence was yet again open to interpretation.

"I've seen the way her eyes follow you or the way she watches when she thinks no one is looking," she was silent a moment, studying his helmeted face. "I suspect you do the same with her."

As usual, Boba kept his own counsel; he was no more likely to tell Jiliac any of the reasons the girl was on edge around him than he was Dengar. Boba Fett didn't like anyone, but it was safe to say in this instance, he preferred the fleshy she Hutt considerably more and he still wasn't telling her anything.

"We owe her, both of us. Make sure my nephew doesn't feed her to his pet or eat her himself before I return."

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