Authors Note: Hey all! I hope wherever you live the weather has been as nice as it is where I live! I haven't wanted to be inside at all! Thanks so much for the faves, follows, and reviews! Sorry for the wait! The next chapter will be finished sooner, hopefully.

Disclaimer: I own nothing belonging to Disney or Lucas Films.

Chapter 18

An Ending

Kiya gently flipped a small tiered dessert mold and dessert plate she held against it upside down and gingerly placed them on the table as Porcellus had shown her. The mold had just come out of one of the cold units in the kitchen and was already sweating under her fingers. A thick gelatinous purple substance remained perfectly formed in three small tiers of graduating sizes on the small dish as she lifted the mold. Kiya sat the container down on the table beside the plate, one eyebrow lifting as it jiggled. She grabbed a sprig of freshly chopped mint from a bowl Porcellus had given her earlier, placing it on top. Kiya dried her hands on the towel lying beside her tray, lifted the Jogan fruit mousse, and set it with the other desserts she was taking upstairs. Bib Fortuna had sent Kiya to fetch an assortment of confections and brandy's for Jabba the Hutt. Jogan was one of the most popular fruits in the galaxy, but nothing sounded appealing to Kiya at the moment. Porcellus appeared at her elbow, placing a bowl of cream-smothered berries on the tray as well. He met Kiya's gaze, the same look in his eyes that was in hers and the others.

It had been another two time units, and the hunting party still hadn't returned. Kiya left a deep breath out as her stomach knotted again. Not that she wanted them to be back. She warred between wanting to know where Sarita was and not wanting them to return quickly.

Kiya told herself the longer they were gone, the more likely it was Sarita had somehow escaped. Kiya also knew that wouldn't happen. Sarita would never make it. No one could escape this place without help. Her stomach tightened more as an image of Jabba's minions chasing Sarita across the sand, filled Kiya's head. The sentients that went after her were mostly bounty hunters by trade. Or at the very least, in the employment of the Hutt Crime Lord, reposing in the throne room. Her thoughts jumped to Spiker. She had briefly caught a glimpse of him earlier before they left to bring Sarita back. He hadn't had on his helmet, but it didn't matter. His face was unreadable. Making a spurned lover out of one of Jabba's men seemed like a bad idea.

Kiya grabbed the polished silver tray, took a deep breath. She shoved her thoughts away, making her way out of the kitchen, and continued to the stairs. She could hear the music from above long before she reached the landing. Kiya looked down at the Frog-dog, meeting his large round eyes as she stepped past him. Again there was a look in his frog-like eyes; he tilted his large head to the side, seemingly watching her. His eyes appeared strangely compassionate. Kiya turned her head, her attention staying with him as she reached the bottom of the steps. When she reached them, her attention turned to the dais to find the slimy majordomo waving her closer impatiently. Gaze down, Kiya hurried closer and up the steps that led to the serving area behind Jabba's platform. She proceeded to the counter across from the steps and sat the tray down.

"What took you so long?" Bib Fortuna reprimanded sharply from directly behind her. "We never keep His Most Prestigious of Benefactors waiting.

Kiya ignored the ridiculousness of his words and let out a deep breath, knowing what he expected. She turned as she stepped back, bowing her head slightly. "I am sorry, Your Excellency." Benefactor was not the term she would use to describe the enormous putrid-smelling corpulently endomorphic slug on the dais below where they stood. Nor was Your Excellency the term she'd use to describe the slithering, oozing pile of bantha dung standing before her.

Fortuna barely acknowledged her reply. His attention had already returned to the tray of sweet treats on the counter. He scrutinized them. Kiya folded her arms behind her back and waited.

"Offer these to His Greatness," Fortuna said, his red eyes returning to her. "Whatever he doesn't choose, put in the conservator under the counter. Remember to treat His Greatness with the same respect you did Her Ladyship. When you have finished, make sure the decanters kept back here are full."

Kiya nodded and lifted the tray, making her way back down the stairs. She stepped to the side, waiting for Fortuna himself.

He moved in front of Jabba and swept his customary grovelingly low bow. He righted himself, lifting his arm toward Kiya. "An assortment of sumptuous confections, prepared for your pleasure, Your Greatness."

"Goodde Joobah chuga," the male Hutt boomed. The kowakian monkey lizard sitting in the curve of the Hutts tail made an excited noise. Bouncing up and down as he anticipated the dribblings that would reach him shortly.

Jabba the Hutt's wide fat tongue slid out of his mouth and across his lips. His slitted eyes grew bigger.

Kiya stifled a shuddered and stepped closer, not lifting her eyes as expected. She held her breath as he perused the plates on the tray.

"Da Wanga," he said, his foul breath reaching Kiya just as she let out her own.

She held it again, she leaned back as much as she dared but otherwise remained where she was as Bib Fortuna lifted the Jogan Mousse from the platter. Kiya stepped back three steps before she made her way back up the stairs.

Kiya removed the brandy decanters, placed wrap over the tray, and put it in the cold interior of the conservator.

Next, Kiya checked the other decanters, filling the ones that weren't full from the bottles kept under the counter.

XxX

Boba Fett stepped onto the dais beside the Hutt Crime Lord, very much aware of the female refilling alcohol decanters behind him. Wincing as a stab of pain drove through his knees, he subtly shifted his stance. If he wanted to, he could use the three hundred and sixty-degree view field his helmet allowed him to watch her, but that was unnecessary. She performed her task efficiently, her long hair pulled back in a thick braid as usual. Its end hung down to the middle of her back, dissecting the skin her dress left bare. While she tried not to draw attention to herself, he now knew why she didn't carry herself like other slaves. He also knew with her current attire and her recent elevation in duties, fading into the background again would be more difficult. Some of Jabba's offal would remember.

When Fortuna had made sure Boba Fett didn't go on the hunt, he suggested Boba Fett do another security check of the facility. Implying that the Wroonian girl had escaped after the sweep, Boba Fett did before Rota arrived because he'd missed something. That was just Fortuna's way of achieving his goal. It was a well-played manipulation; Boba Fett would give him that much. The slimy Twi' was absent from the throne room at the moment. Fortuna wasn't stupid enough to name Boba specifically. He had used they, and them in place of Boba Fett's name. That all told Boba was that if Bib Fortuna didn't want him hunting the slave girl, there was a reason. Slaves ran. It was not at all uncommon. He could even see it coming with this one if he had thought about it. She was soft. She was desperate. Something told Boba Fett; it wasn't simply that, however. Boba Fett also knew the reason that he had spent the day inspecting security in the palace could just be another instance of Bib Fortuna, showing him he thought he held the power.

This wasn't as simple as that either, however. Fortuna didn't want Boba Fett on this hunt. That told Boba Fett there was something more going on here that Fortuna didn't want him to learn.

The girl moved down the steps on the other side of Jabba, a tray in hand, drawing his attention. If she was aware of his presence, he didn't know, but that wasn't why he watched her through the visor of his Mandalorian helmet. Still, he would bet she knew he was there. When the inevitable happened, and they returned with her friend, if the Wroonian girl were lucky, they'd execute her quickly. Frequently in these scenarios, the prey was toyed with: driven and tortured beyond terror before they died. Boba Fett did not care about the fate of the Wroonian girl, but he had to question what she would do.

"Kiya," he said softly to himself, for the first time. He continued to watch her.

Creed Shesh's granddaughter.

No matter who or what she really was, Boba Fett owed her. He didn't need Jiliac to point it out either. Boba Fett made it a habit not to owe anyone ever. If he did find himself in such a situation, there were always strings attached. His gaze continued to stalk her as she moved around the room across from him. She paused, balancing the tray on one hip with one hand, and tucked the hair brushing her face behind her ear with the other. Worry marked her features. Her face was almost gaunt with it, so were the dancers and even Rystáll Sant. She sang away through an ashen face, as did the others.

Creed Shesh's granddaughter would have been better off if Jiliac had taken her to Nal Hutta and kept her there.

She was a survivor, and she was strong. Boba could almost believe she wouldn't spend the rest of her life as a slave, but the Wroonian girl was a liability. This girl would have to be a fighter to survive six years as a slave, three of which she spent with the Pykes. The Pyke Syndicate had a habit of burning through their workforce. Still, she had most likely seen mine labor of some sort. Though he didn't think it was Coaxium or Rhydonium. Those workers most often died or suffered from miners' waste or miners' bone or other ailments from exposure to them in their unrefined state. One gave the sufferer painful dry red scabs that appeared as their bodies began to shrivel. The other was degenerative bone disorder, which caused its sufferers to stoop and become emaciated and frail until they reached the point their bones couldn't support them any longer. She obviously didn't suffer from either of those nor did she look like she had cancer.

Right now, it wasn't those things that threatened her ability to breathe. Some sentients felt the need to help others, and the slave girl was one of them. He had seen it the first night when she put herself at risk to pull the stumbling Wroonian from the dance floor.

Compassion was a weakness. It would cost her.

The Wroonian girl would be her downfall if she weren't careful.

He watched as she finished handing out the drinks on her tray and turned, making her way back around the edge of the room to where the dancers were, standing near the playing Jizz band.

Bib Fortuna entered the room, approaching Jabba quickly, drawing Boba's attention from her. The Twi' didn't bow, just stepped up on the platform between Jabba and himself and whispered in Jabba's ear.

Boba looked back to the door, just as the Wroonian girl was dragged into the room on her knees by two of Jabbas Weequay guards, her face bloody and bruised, hair matted to the side of her head. His attention shot back across the room.

XxX

Kiya stopped breathing the moment they appeared in the doorway with Sarita. Her fingers tightened on the empty tray in her hands. Blood pounded in her ears, her heart battering against her ribs. All she could do was stare, her stomach churning more and more as the Weequay guards dragged Sarita by her cuffed arms. The guard closest to Kiya had an energy whip attached to his belt. Kiya swallowed hard, remembering the feel of the lash against her own flesh. They finished dragging Sarita and put their hands on Sarita's shoulders, holding her down just as they had done with the Kiffar.

Fortuna spoke to Jabba, but Kiya had no idea what he said. He swung his attention to Sarita, approaching as he snapped at her. "You dare to disrespect your most magnanimous and grand benefactor."

The guard blocked Kiya's view of his face, but Fortuna stepped so close to Sarita, her neck craned backward. A moment later, the Twi' slapped her. The guards let go of her arm, she nearly toppled to the side, her dark hair swirling around her blue shoulders.

The guard stepped back. Kiya watched, helpless. A chill swept across her skin as Sarita struggled back to her knees and tossed her hair from her face. She stared up at Fortuna as she leaned forward and spit on his feet. Neither moved for a moment, just stared at each other. Fortuna leaned forward, grabbing Sarita by the throat, his pale face red with rage. His lips formed words, Kiya couldn't hear. He propelled Sarita upward slightly, then shoved her back down.

Kiya squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head away as if she was trying to blot out what was happening. More words were spoken in Huttese.

She opened her eyes just as the trapdoor under Sarita opened, and she fell, screaming. The beast roared, and Sarita's screams grew more frantic. The sound of bones cracking reached her. Kiya squeezed her eyes closed again, tears leaking out of them as Sarita's cries died. Kiya's ears started ringing, and everything seemed to slow down around her, even as it sped up.

Kiya was jostled to the side, dropping the tray she held loosely in her grasp as the frozen crowd came back to life with cheers and laughter. Kiya opened her eyes, her gaze landing on the vibor knife tucked into the sentients belt who had collided with her. Kiya stumbled into him without a thought. She pulled the small blade from his belt, turning it so her forearm hid the edge. Kiya took a step forward, looking up, and her gaze collided with Boba Fett again instead of Bib Fortuna. He was closer than before. He shook his head slightly.

Kiya stared into his dark T-shaped visor, unable to look away. She blinked several times as tears came in earnest, sliding down her face, this time. Her ears stopped ringing. Uncaring, she turned and pushed her way through the crowd, not looking at him again. She couldn't breathe, and her skin felt too tight. She had to try harder to get through the group still gathered in the doorway.

A rough hand wrapped around Kiya's bicep. "Where are you off too?" A voice asked.

Kiya pulled her arm free and started up the stairs. The way down was blocked by more of palaces denizens. She was running within the first few steps, she met no one on her way up. She had no idea if anyone followed. Kiya didn't stop at the next floor, she just needed air. Air not tainted by the stench of Hutts and the sycophantic offal that followed them is what she needed. When she reached the observation platform at the very top of the palace, Kiya slipped through one of the doors out onto the open walkway that circled the top. The air wasn't fresh. It was hot and blasted Kiya in the face, but at least she appeared to be alone. She stared down at the blade she still held in her hand. She had been ready to stab Fortuna. She also knew she would have tried to if Boba Fett hadn't been standing there. The image of him subtly shaking his head filled hers. He was warning her, and he would have stopped her. Opening her hand, Kiya dropped the small knife. It made a dull clanging noise as it hit the stone floor.

Helplessness swamped her. Kiya's stomach turned violently, clamping tightly around the lump already there. Coming up here was like running upstairs when there were monsters after you. She had run out of places to go, and she couldn't go down either. Kiya understood the helplessness that drove Sarita to run. She always had. Kiya had tasted it before, she had even tried to run herself. No matter how strong you were, you had no control in this life. Kiya took a deep breath of the hot air, hands shaking. Her eyes drifted the barren desert sand stretching out beyond the horizon in every direction. This was a place designed to breed hopelessness and despair.

"Kiya?" Yarna questioned behind her. Kiya's chest tightened, and she could hardly breathe again. Kiya pushed at the thin material covering her chest as if to relieve some of the pressure.

"I'm so sorry, Kiya," Yarna said softly, placing a hand on Kiya's shoulder. "I know how much she meant to you."

Kiya let out a shuddering breath as the tightness in her chest eased some. She rested her elbows on the railing, Yarna's hand fell away. "Right."

There was nothing but silence for a moment. "Kiya."

Kiya shook her head, fighting a fresh wave of tears. "She was just a kid. I was her age," Kiya's words trailed off, and she shook her head.

Yarna stepped up to the railing beside Kiya.

"I understand what drove her to run. I mean, what puts you there. I even tried to run myself after the Pykes sold me." Kiya might have earlier, but she had never had the chance before she came to Tatooine. She had gone directly from the slave pens to a Pyke ships hold.

"I never tried to run, but I did think about it for one brief moment," the Askijian said, pulling Kiya from her thoughts. Yarna shook her head. "I could never leave my pups here alone."

Kiya looked up at the older female.

"When we first arrived here, and Jabba killed my mate, it was tempting," Yarna went on, her eyes taking on a far-off look. "You have no idea how difficult it was to listen to that steaming pile of five-day-old moof meat magnanimously offer me an indenture after he had just murdered my husband and taken my children."

Kiya's throat burned with a fresh wave of tears as she watched Yarna stoically tell her tale.

"You have no idea how badly I wanted to wrap one of the dancers' chains he loves so much around his throat," Yarna went on.

Kiya turned to the side, leaning her hip against the ballast, and touched Yarnas arm. The other female met Kiya's eyes. "You never told me about your husband," Kiya said.

Yarna shook her head no, her attention returning to the sand dunes. "Maybe that's because I feel like I've dishonored him. In many ways, I've grown complacent to this life."

"How have you dishonored him?" Kiya asked, searching what she could see of Yarna's features.

"He was brave, my man. He would fight tooth and nail." A short bark of humorless laughter escaped Yarna. "He did, right up to the very end when he challenged Jabba for our freedom."

Understanding, Kiya filled in the unspoken words. "And Jabba killed him?"

"Yes. He dropped him to his pet before the Rancor."

The sound of voice reached them from the stairwell, drawing both of their attention. "Come on," Yarna said, taking Kiya's arm. She led Kiya around the walkway that circled the ancient monastery. Yarna paused in front of a section of wall, just as ordinary as the other. The other female reached out, tapping a sequence of stones. She looked at Kiya as the stone slid back from the others then to the side. Kiya reached out, placing a hand on the doorframe as she stepped inside. Kiya paused just inside as the door slid closed behind her.

"There are several secret passages inside the palace. Most just don't know they're here," Yarna explained, starting down the narrow, steep set of stairs. Kiya placed her hand wall as they made their way down to help her keep her balance. The air in the passage was much cooler than that above. The mill marks on the stone walls slid under Kiya's fingers as they descended, making Kiya question if the stones hadn't been cut by hand.

Kiya only knew about the stairs that led from the throne room to the hallway near the kitchen.

"We both better get back before anyone notices we are gone," Yarna said as they reached the bottom of the steps that couldn't have reached more than one floor down. Another door slid open as an automatic light came on, revealing one of the upstairs supply closets. Kiya followed Yarna into the room, and the hidden door closed. Kiya hurried to the kitchen.

She didn't look at Porcellus or the others though she knew they watched her. Kiya simply washed her face and grabbed an already loaded tray from the large prep table just inside the door, and made her way up the back upstairs, slipping into the throne by the hidden door behind where the band played and the Corellian hung.

Kiya made her way around the band. Yarna was already on the dance floor like she had never left. Kiya took a deep breath, approaching the first table. The Devaronian sitting on the outside lifted his gaze to her tray as she presented it but never looked at her. Neither did the others.

Kiya moved on to the next table and was met with the same treatment. Its occupants laughed as if nothing had happened. Kiya avoided drawing close to the dais, she wove through the crowd. Porcellus had told her to stay away from the platform initially, and Kiya intended to follow his orders again.

"Where have you been?" Fortuna asked from behind her for the second time today.

Kiya took a deep breath, willing the contempt boiling inside her to quiet. She turned around, eyes demurely downcast. "I'm doing my job, Your Greatness, " Kiya said placidly.

"Give that tray to one of the others, " he ordered. "You will be given the prestigious honor of helping serve the most illustrious Jabba for the next meal."

Kiya nodded, not looking up at him. "As you wish, Your Greatness." Kiya swallowed the bile in her throat, she looked around the room for someone to give her tray. Phelgmin wasn't far away. Kiya approached him, placing her cups on the tray with his own, she helped him slip her empty tray under his full one.

"Tell Porcellus; Bib Fortuna wants me to help serve Jabba for a while," she explained.

Much Later That Night

Kiya lifted her tray, trying to dodge one of the drunk guards as he stumbled toward her. It was early morning, and Kiya's feet had moved past hurting to being numb. Apparently, there was something about innocent bloodshed that made the denizens of Jabba's palace even more lively than usual. As if they'd just won some battle or killed some great beast, not murdered a defenseless girl.

They'd played all sorts of games, not just sabacc, and some had even sparred on the landing pad outside of the motor pool. Kiya had run up and down and up and down the steps without ceasing since Bib had released her from helping with Jabba's meal.

Yarna was still on the dance floor, and the band played on as if everything was normal. Kiya took a deep breath. At least, Nola wasn't present. Melina Carniss might be a trash sentient for the most part, but she had made sure Nola stayed in the pit tonight. Kiya was grateful.

Kiya reached the hallway where the game rooms were and started down it. The rooms were still so packed, the watchers had spilled out into the hallway. All Kiya wanted to do was crawl into her tiny bed and put her numb feet and emotions to bed. She was bone-weary, as her grandfather called it.

The shifting path Kiya followed through the crowd of sentients closed off as it had done several times tonight. Kiya found herself having to say excuse me again. This one she recognized, at least.

Leaning closer, she said, "excuse me."

The same cyborg she had seen talking to Fett the last night Jiliac was here before he appeared at her elbow, turned, looking down at her now. A broad grin split his face. His observation had made her choke and smile that night, but he was still intimidating with his scarred features. Yet Kiya felt an answering smile tug at her lips again as he almost jumped out of her way. "A thousand apologies, my lovely," he said, lifting his arm for her to pass. He plucked a glass from her tray as she stepped past him. His seldom absent Trandoshian sidekick in the yellow jumpsuit made a sound of disgust, his forked tongue slithering out of his mouth to make a hissing noise. The Gand she had seen with them several times watched her through large insectoid eyes from the other side of the humanoid lizard.

Kiya continued through the crowd, most of which hardly noticed anything about her other than the drinks she carried.

The Weequay, with the energy whip from earlier, stepped into her path. Kiya's steps slowed, her gaze caught on the whip still strapped to his thick waist. Fingers tightening on her tray, Kiya's attention lifted back up to his thick-skinned face to find his on her. Her heart started hammering, she forced her gaze down, even though her first instinct was to hold her ground. Kiya stepped to the right to move around him, but he sidestepped her, filling her path.

Heart pounding harder, Kiya tried to move in the other direction, and he filled her path a second time. Panic threatened her as a crowd began to turn its focus to them. Her mind jumped to the small vibroblade she had dropped on the palisade earlier.

"Excuse me," Kiya said, glancing up at him. She took another step.

"I don't think I will," was his reply. Kiya flinched, jerking away as his fingers lightly touched her face a moment later. He laughed mockingly. "I think we have a fiery one here," he announced, holding her gaze. Several snickers of approval filled her ears. Kiya glanced at the others out of the corner of her eye; foreboding danced along her spine in a warning.

Kiya lifted her chin defiantly despite her unease and didn't look away. It might not make sense to most, but she couldn't bring herself to cower. No now. Not after today. Kiya was too tired. She knew what would happen to her, but she couldn't bring herself to care. He wanted to terrorize her and make her beg.

The amusement began to fade from his eyes. "Maybe I should remind you of your place, slave," he warned, taking a step toward her.

Kiya didn't reply. He grabbed her chin, his fingers biting into her soft flesh as he forced her head up. His sneer turned to a leer, and he shoved her away from him.

Kiya lost her balance, stumbling backward into one of their observers, the armor he wore biting into her back. Her tray landed on the floor, glass shattering and flying everywhere, and sending a spray of several different colored alcohols over everyone nearby. Some hit her bare shins sticking to them. The Weequay quickly grabbed hold of her arm, jerking her away from the one she had just stumbled into. His rough-fingered grip on her bicep tightened, and he shook her violently, sneering down at her. Kiya's heart pounded faster, but she refused to show her fear. Another hand latched onto her other arm, catching loose strands of her with it, it pulled her back.

"Z' mi," the newcomer said in Huttese.

The Weeqauy's upper lip curled up, revealing yellowed uneven teeth, his grip turned even more bruising. "Find your own," he said in basic.

The other growled. "Mi."

"Uba seel doo shash joppay jee theough." The first Weequay warned. He pulled her so that part of her arm that wasn't encircled by his hand touched his chest.

XxX

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