Chapter 14
Mie Tolessan hated being in here, especially late at night. Since the recent weeks, he had been one of the unfortunate bastards sent out to the tower which controlled all the slave chips, much to his utter boredom. Beforehand, he have been a lucky one in Jabba's palace, one who enjoyed the presence of the female slaves.
To be given this duty exasperated and angered him on many levels. The two Twi'lek girls losses have been a tragedy, especially since Mie especially enjoyed their presences. He had confidently spent "time" with both of them when he'd received the chance and both had proved satisfying beyond belief, no doubt to their youthful ages.
However, despite his feelings to this, he would never voice his contempt for such a duty. He could only shiver at what could happen. He'd rather not be a Hutt's dinner if he had anything to bloody say about it.
So he just kept his mouth shut and stood there every night.
This night had began like no other, and Mie actually found himself closing his eyes a bit. Taking some shut eye after nothing happening wouldn't harm anyone.
"Mie," said the voice of his buddy, Aalaar Malt, another poor bastard that have been left here with him, clapping him on the back of his shoulder. "Don't tell me you're actually getting tired. You had a whole day to relax."
"It's just boring, dude," Mie said, rolling his brown eyes.
"Oh, I agree, but personally I can't wait to discover that the slaves have been recovered and whoever is taking them is dead," Aalaar said with no small amount of distaste, "they can't hide forever, most of all on this dump. To go against Jabba is foolish."
Mie too had disliked Tatooine, but Jabba and his slaver elk made up for it. If it was up to him, he would have left this planet over a decade or so ago, but beggars can't be choosers.
After all, things could be worse.
He didn't realize how numbered his days were.
A dark figure stormed inside, and all of them trained their blasters on this intruder.
"Freeze! Put your hands in the air!" Aalaar shouted, somehow doing well to keep his composure.
"You heard him!" Mie added, admittedly doing as impressive as his friend.
For a moment, it had seemed like the robed figure was eyeing them all, before his hooded gaze landed on Mie.
The next moment, the figure had been cutting through them, with a weapon Mie didn't recognize. He could hear painful cries, screams for mercy, of utter pain before the end of it all...
Mie had the good luck to fire one shot before his blaster seemed to be melted in his hand.
Silence...
He was still breathing, but now on his knees like many other female slaves have been before him.
Whatever the weapon he used, it seemed to be no longer in sight. What the kriff was that?
Someone was now towering over him, judgmental eyes downcast on him.
"You are the one who is in charge here..." It sounded less like a question and more like a statement, but regardless, his every word stole a breath away from Mie. "You would have one chance to submit willingly. I want access to this tower. Concede, and you may avoid suffering the same fates as your comrades."
"I would never tell you!" Mie spat, finding a burst of defiance fueling through him.
The figure seemed unmoved as he lifted his head up through some majestic force that Mie didn't understand. "We shall see..."
In the next second, he had been looming over the figure in a grasp. His head was in something metallic which should be a hand. At last, he felt his forehead convulsed, yet had been refrained from reaching for the pounding. It was almost as if someone was digging into his mind before he began screaming... What the kriff?!
What he dimly recognized as what should be eyes seemed to be looking inside of his soul.
But they couldn't be eyes, not when they were golden like the Tatoo 1...
"I have alternative means to make you cooperate."
And the world turned black.
Gardulla moved through the dimly lit corridors of Jabba's palace, her massive form undulating with a deceptive grace. As she moved deeper into the heart of the stronghold, she couldn't help but notice the heightened security measures that permeated the hallways. There was an undercurrent of tension, an unmistakable aura of paranoia that cling to the atmosphere.
She knew all too well about all the slavers mysteriously dropping dead, their throats being snapped with no sign of battle or blood anywhere. Gardulla was fortunate enough that she didn't attend the auction that day - for she might have ended up following down a similar fate.
Her bulbous eyes scanned the guards patrolling the hallways, their expressions etched with a mixture of vigilance and anxiety. The once proud and ostentatious palace had transformed into a fortress, bristling with defenses meant to ward off any potential threats. Jabba's increasing paranoia was palpable, and Gardulla couldn't help but find it amusing.
A deep, throaty chuckle rumbled from within Gardulla's massive frame, echoing through the corridors. The sound drew the attention of passing guards, their gazes flickering with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. But Gardulla paid them no mind. She reveled in the audacity of Jabba's response, his fear of his losing influence for all to see.
As she continued her leisurely stroll through the palace, Gardulla's laughter grew louder. The guards exchanged glances, their brows furrowing in confusion and irritation. How dare this upstart rival find amusement in their master's caution?
Gardulla's laughter subsided, and she turned her gaze toward a group of slaves, huddled together in a corner of the corridor. Their eyes were downcast, having suffered worse treatment as a result of their others being saved.
"Look at these whelps, cowering in the shadows, trembling under Jabba's watchful eye. He thinks his increased security will protect him, but all it does is reveal his weakness."
They had grown accustomed to their existence as mere possessions; their dreams of freedom long extinguished.
"Jabba's paranoia is an admission of his fear, his realization that his hold on power is slipping. He believes everyone poses a threat, and in his panic, he clings to his guards and fortifications like a frightened child. His security measures are nothing more than a show of weakness, a feeble attempt to stave off the inevitable."
As the echoes of her laughter faded, Gardulla turned away from her pawns and continued moving down. Her current intent was to get to Jabba after all.
With a confident stride, Gardulla continued her journey through the palace, her mind alight with plans and schemes. Jabba's rising security only serves to strengthen her resolve, for she knows that the more he sought to protect himself, the more vulnerable he became. The Hutt's reign of fear may crumble in on itself, and Gardulla would be there to witness his downfall, relishing in the chaos she had sown.
"Bah! What do you mean?!" Jabba bellowed.
Speaking of which, the Hutt himself was sitting on his throne, surrounded by his retinue of guards and dancers.
"We don't know what happened, master, but they all been found dead and we have been locked out of our own codes with our databases sliced," the poor Klatooninian answered from the other side. "Someone or something has control over more than half of Tatooine."
"I want you to keep trying. It would be your head if you don't." Jabba said darkly, pointing a finger at him.
"Yes, sir," he hid a gulp as the transmission ended.
"Woke up on the bad side of the bed this morning?" Gardulla spoke.
He looked up as Gardulla arrived, his gaze cold and unwelcoming.
"Gardulla," he grunted, scowling at her unexpected appearance. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"
Gardulla snickered. "I heard about your little problem, Jabba. Losing all those slaves must be quite the blow to your ego."
Jabba growled. "Do not test me."
"Jabba, my dear," the female Hutt cooed, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "No need to get upset."
Jabba frowned, his massive tail swishing angrily behind him. "Silence, Gardulla. You know nothing of my affairs."
"Oh, but I do," Gardulla replied, a smirk spreading across her face. "Word travels fast in our line of work. It seems you've been careless, Jabba. Allowing your precious assets to slip away so easily."
Jabba's eyes narrowed, his massive form coiling like a spring. "You dare to mock me? You forget your place. Need I remind you that you lost two vulnerable slaves?"
The female Hutt laughed, the sound grating on Jabba's nerves. "Oh, Jabba. Always so quick to anger. But I speak the truth. Your incompetence has cost you dearly. Perhaps it's time for a new ruler of the criminal underworld. About the loss of my two slaves, they were vulnerable yes, but there are many others who are just as capable."
Jabba bared his teeth, a low growl rumbling in his throat. "You tread on thin ice, Gardulla."
Gardulla's eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly recovered, her expression turning haughty. "I fear no one, least of all you. You cannot intimidate me."
Jabba rose to his full height, towering over Gardulla like a krayt dragon. "We shall see about that, Gardulla. You will regret your words."
Gardulla had never seen Jabba this angry before, and it humored her.
The male Hutt continued, his voice low and menacing. "You may be a Hutt, but you are not invincible. You are always under me."
Gardulla snickered. "My dear, the Hutt Council has heard about the loss of the slaves and bounty hunters and now your power is being called into question. I should apply for your position so we can get some results."
Jabba's eyes narrowed, his massive form coiling with anger. "You have gone mad, Gardulla."
Gardulla laughed, the sound grating on Jabba's nerves. "Oh, please. Everyone knows about your curfew. You're trying to keep your remaining slaves under lock and key, like a bunch of animals. How pathetic."
Jabba's expression darkened. "The curfew is for my rule to be respected."
Gardulla snorted. "Please. You're just trying to save face after your little blunder. Face it, Jabba. You're slipping. Maybe it's time for someone more competent to take over." She grinned. "And for your information, I know my place, Jabba. And it's not beneath you. You're nothing but a has-been, living off the glory of your past successes. But those days are long gone. You're a relic, a dinosaur. And soon, you'll be extinct just like many creatures of the Infinite Empire."
Jabba's eyes peered closer to Gardulla. "You forget yourself, Gardulla. You are a guest in my palace, and you speak to me with disrespect. I have been patient with you, but now, I have had enough."
Turning to her right, she saw henchmen closing in on her. To the left, the same was happening.
Gardulla swallowed nervously, realizing too late that she had pushed Jabba too far and that she had no supporters, not even now with all the doubts. She had always thought of herself as his equal, but now, she saw the error of her ways.
All bravo from earlier had been gone.
"I...I apologize, Jabba," she stammered, trying to backtrack, to live yet another day. "I did not mean to offend you. I was merely joking."
It was not to be.
Jabba snorted, his massive form shaking with anger. "Save your apologies, Gardulla. They mean nothing to me. You have insulted me and my honor, and for that, you will pay."
With that, Jabba signaled to his guards, who commenced to pounce on Gardulla. She realized too late that she had made a grave mistake in underestimating Jabba's power and influence. She had thought that he was weak and vulnerable, but now, she saw that he was more dangerous than ever even in his maddening condition.
In seconds, Jabba's henchmen rained blows down upon her. There was no mercy in their strikes, some even using their blasters to slam them against her.
"You should have known better, Gardulla," one of the henchmen sneered, his fist connecting with her jaw. "You don't insult Jabba and get away with it."
Gardulla groaned in pain, struggling to defend herself against the onslaught of blows. The henchmen were too strong, too brutal.
Jabba looked at her, the outlines of a smirk dawning across his lips.
They kicked and punched her, taunting and jeering all the while about how she is nothing and would never be to Jabba the Hutt. Gardulla felt as though she was being torn apart, piece by piece.
She tried to fight back and actually managed to knock one away, but it was like trying to fight a tidal wave, for more punches came down on her without a single care in the galaxy. Their fists and feet came down upon her with no mercy.
Gardulla's vision started to blur, and she felt herself slipping into unconsciousness. But before she could pass out, a sudden voice cut through the chaos.
"That's enough."
It was Jabba, his massive form looming over the henchmen. They stopped their assault immediately, cowering behind their leader who now stood over her.
Jabba turned to Gardulla, his eyes cold and unforgiving. "My mercy only goes far, my dear Gardulla. Insult me and my rule again, and it will be worse next time. A far more public display."
Gardulla struggled to sit up, groaning in pain. "I-I understand, Jabba," she managed to say, her voice hoarse and weak.
Jabba leaned in close, his hot breath washing over her face. "One wrong move, and you will fall through."
With that, Jabba turned and slinked back to his throne, leaving Gardulla to lay there pathetically, further shamed by those who stood aside as they commenced back to business. She had always thought of herself as a powerful and cunning Hutt, but right now, she realized that she was no match for Jabba. He was the true ruler of the criminal underworld, and for now she was merely a pretender to the throne. She would have to be more careful in the future, lest she suffer the same fate as those who had crossed Jabba before her and hadn't even moved.
She was even surprised by the fact that she'd survived the encounter, thinking that she was dead the moment that she'd realized that Jabba's agitation went beyond his sane status only a few weeks ago; yet she did wonder what would happen if the slaves that had gone missing were found. She worried about the possibility that the whispers about an uprising were true let alone what would this mean to the rest of the Hutts.
But as much as it seemed she had learned, Gardulla was angry for being humiliated publicly. As she managed to stand, the female Hutt had to force herself walk out, feeling her body convulsing only slightly.
As Gardulla slowly regained her composure, anger welled up within her like a tidal wave. Hatred burned in her eyes, replacing the smug satisfaction she had not long ago. She seethed with a newfound determination, her mind consumed by thoughts of revenge.
The memory of the henchmen's cruel laughter echoed in her ears, fueling her rage. They had believed her defeated, broken and humiliated. But Gardulla was no weakling, and she will not allow herself to be bested so easily. With gritted teeth, she mentally vowed to make them pay for their insolence.
Her mind raced, devising intricate plans to exact her revenge. She knew she couldn't confront Jabba directly, not yet. He was surrounded by loyal guards and cunning allies and challenging him head-on would be a fool's errand. No, she needed to strike at his underbelly, to undermine his power and weaken his support.
Jabba's power was already getting called into question, and she knew that she can use this to her advantage. If further action was to be committed, Jabba's control may no longer be just as absolute.
Gardulla's thoughts turned to the henchmen themselves, those who had dared to lay their hands on her. She envisioned their faces, twisted with sadistic pleasure as they pummeled her defenseless body. The images stoked the fire of her determination, and she swore to herself that she would make them suffer, each and every one of them.
She imagined herself assembling her own loyal band of followers, a force of ruthless mercenaries and skilled assassins. With their help, she would orchestrate a series of calculated strikes against Jabba's operations, crippling his illicit trades and tarnishing his reputation. She would expose his weaknesses and exploit them, turning his allies against him and tearing apart his empire from within.
Not his closest allies of course, but the ones from the distance. Should this uprising finally overthrow Jabba, Gardulla would be there to pick up the pieces and finish his dirty work.
Gardulla's anger fueled her vengeful imaginings. She saw herself confronting the henchmen one by one, relishing their fear and desperation. She will make them beg for mercy, just as they had made her suffer. And then, when the time was right, she would deliver the final blow to Jabba himself, shattering his reign and taking her rightful place as the dominant force in the criminal underworld.
As she mentally plotted her vengeance, Gardulla's battered body began to surge with renewed strength. The pain that had once overwhelmed her transformed into a fierce determination, a burning resolve to rise above her current state and emerge victorious. She would show them all that she is not to be trifled with, that she was a force to be reckoned with.
Gardulla stood up and began to walk out of the palace, having a newfound goal. There would be a time for revenge, and she would stop at nothing to achieve it. Jabba and his henchmen would soon learn the price of crossing Gardulla the Hutt, and she would ensure that it was a steep one.
"Wait, Gardulla," his voice froze her in her tracks, and she turned around, bowing her head slightly like expected of her. For now... "I may have use for something of yours..."
Arthur's note: I swear when I write Vader from the enemy's perspective, shit be so much fun because you already know what's about to happen but it still allows me to toy with emotions. Lmao
I want to make it clear that Jabba and Gardulla were by no mean friends, even though they respected each other by the Clone Wars given she served as his representative which likely took Gardulla years to attain. Of course she would have something to say about this. The reason why Jabba wouldn't kill Gardulla just yet is because she can be useful.
Don't forget about the end there. This chapter is more important than just a pointless way to fill up chapters, and that shall be seen on a later date.
May the Force be with you all always.