trying to sneak past surveillance."
"I," said Rudd, "am a respectable escort. I--"
"Can it," said the head stormtrooper. "We know your boss. Jabba's in
for a surprise.
Real soon." The whiteskin beside him laughed.
The third stormtrooper kept his weapon up. "I say we search their
ship," he drawled.
"Not necessary," Rudd insisted. "I'm clean. I've got an appointment in
just a few minutes."
Evidently that was the wrong thing to tell a storm-trooper.
Oola, Sienn, and Rudd spent the next hour under hnperial guard, cronched
in marginal shade While two stormtroopers examined every square glekk of
the shuttle. They emerged with officious shrugs.
"Move along," said the head whiteskin. "No charges this time."
"Thanks so much," Rudd growled, but he said it softly. Whatever
"charges" were, they scared him.
"Come on, girls." Oola walked a little faster and so avoided letting
his swat land. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Sienn wasn't
as quick.
"What are they looking for?" Oola asked as they hustled up a narrow
alley.
"Not what. Who. From the way they searched us, they're looking for a
person."
"Who?"
"Don't know. Don't care. Don't ask. I'm off schedule now," he
grumbled, forgetting to condescend and speak pidgin. He bundled them
into a wheelless craft with three aft-mounted engines. Oola claimed the
back seat. "Fortuna's going to be busy for more than an hour.
We'll have to--" His testy words faded under engine noise.
Oola stared over the side of the craft as Rudd steered across the ugly
little town. It was all aboveground, not sensibly nestled in Solid
rock. Already she felt homesick. Debris lay heaped alongside square
buildings the same ugly orange as Tatooine's sand.
Rudd steered around several turns, until Oola would've gotten lost
except for her unfailing sense of the suns. If you couldn't orient
yourself on Ryloth, you could die before your time. "Just a little
farther."
Rudd stroked Sienn's leg as she sat in the front seat beside him.
"And we'll--whoops." He'd been decelerating.
Abruptly he sped up again and raced around a corner.
"What was that?" Oola asked. She craned her neck to look back.
Nothing interesting showed.
"Visitors outside Jabba's town house. Not the kind I want to show you
girls to. Let me think." Moments later, he braked the craft beside a
sizable pile of debris.
Metal spars and hull plates lay tangled with shredded cloth shrouds:
evidently two airships had collided over Mos Eisley, crashed, and been
preserved in Tatooine's dryness . . . except for their removable parts.
Those were long scavenged, judging by the sand that drifted through
holes in what remained. "Out," said Rudd. "Out."
"Here?" Sienn's lekku wriggled in confusion. It was a natural gesture
their teachers had taught her to emphasize, just as Oola had learned to
swing her lekku in free, wild arcs.
"Yep." Rudd gave Sienn a shove that sent her over the side. Oola
vaulted down with a long, lazy flip.
Rudd followed. He poked at a long metal engine shield, slid a spar
aside, and finally lifted a large sheet of yellowish cloth. It might
have once served as a sail, attached to a long straight boom and ripped
into weathered yellow strips at one end. "Climb under this.
Wait till I get back. Don't make a sound. Mos Eisley is full of
predators." He mimed a toothy growl and pretended to claw her.
"Predators eat nice little girls. Put your hoods up."
Sienn had already rolled into the sail's stuffy shade.
"Get in here, Oola," she whispered. "Hurry. Some-one might see you."
Oola crawled close, curling her lekku close to her neck inside the hood.
She couldn't let sand scratch their sleek skin. That would hurt . . .
and it would decrease her value to Bib's famous employer.
It was finally sinking in: they were on the same world as the fabulous
Jabba the Hutt. Master Bib For-tuna had spun mouth-watering tales of
Jabba's wealth and splendor--his legendary palace, his exquisite taste
in food, females, and other luxuries. Oola imagined soft cushions and
costumes that fluttered in every breeze, composed solely of artfully
draped dancing veils. Her handsome new master would be suave, powerful,
and very deeply impressed with her -. a station worth the insignificant
price of the freedom she'd flung aside.
But she lay hiding in a pile of garbage. Sienn sniffled behind her.
Several minutes later, Oola blinked a runnel of sweat out of one eye.
She'd changed her mind about Tatooine: it was hotter than Ryloth.
Her vision blurred in heat that shimmered the air. An ill-defined
shadow seemed to detach from the nearest building and flow toward the
rubbish heap.
That was ridiculous. Even at midday, shadows didn't-Sienn grabbed
Oola's leg. "Oola," she whispered.
"What's that?"
Oola blinked. It wasn't an hallucination, but a black-robed . .
. person. Mos Eisley is full of predators. Even Rudd traveled
cantiously here. Oola toed Sienn's shoulder. "Get deeper!" Once Sienn
started to move, Oola wriggled backward. Hot, scratchy sand ground
through her coverall against her knees, elbows, and belly, but she
managed another meter deeper under cover.
The far edge of the sail lifted. The dark creature crouched on its
heels, extending a hand as if to raise something . . . but his hand did
not touch cloth or spar. A black cloak, hooded like theirs, draped his
face.
Sienn whimpered. Oola scrabbled at her belt with sandy fingers,
fulnbling for her decorative little dagger.
"Keep away," she hissed and signed in Twi'leki.
The shrouded creature leaned onto one hand.
Deep under his hood, Oola caught a glimpse of chin and a glint of blue.
Twi'leks never had blue eyes.
"Keep away," she repeated. The words didn't sound as menacing in Basic.
The creature shed his cloak and edged forward. Human like Rudd, he had
clean, tow-colored fur. Unlike Rudd's kitchen-rag garb, his black
undercloak clothing looked intact (although well worn) and tucked down.
If this was a predator, her impression of Rudd had been right: Rudd was
scum, even among his own people. Bib Fortuna's organization dropped in
her estimation.
So did her decision to cooperate.
The human's unnatural blue eyes glanced from Oola to Sienn, back to
Oola. "I feel your fear," he said softly. "Come with me. I've got a"
He used several more words that she didn't understand, but he finished
with two that she did: "safe place."
Oola laughed shortly. "No safe place on this world," she guessed aloud.
It alarmed her that this human's 'way of speaking, whether or not she
understood his words, dispelled her logical fear of him.
Sienn shook like one of Master Fortuna's collar ornaments.
Oola raised up on her elbows and knees, lizard-style, and brandished
Rudd's little dagger like a claw. "Who are you?" she demanded. "What
do you want?"
"I mean you no harm." He didn't flinch from her blade. "My name is
Luke."
She rolled the word down her tongue. "Luke. Go away, Luke."
"I was born on this world." Every word tried to soothe her.
"I've returned on important..." He used another word she didn't know
and couldn't guess at. Maybe it was the name of his spaceship.
"Then go do what you came back for," she said.
"Leave us alone."
He leaned down onto both hands and crawled closer. Something dangling
from his belt caught her attention. It didn't look like a blaster, and
it certainly wasn't a knife. But she'd never seen a money pouch shaped
like that. If it was a weapon, he wasn't reaching for it.
He must not think her quick enough--or determined enough--to use her
knife. She wriggled her knees up under her hips and dug her toes into
the sand. This lizard could spring.
"What's your name?" he asked. He was almost close enough to touch.
"Nothing, daughter of nobody." She didn't want to hurt him, just chase
him away. She picked her target --his left arm was extended.
She could jab his elbow.
Just enough to-His right hand flicked, a beckoning gesture. Her arms
collapsed. She dropped chin first onto the sand and lost her grip on
her knife.
He crooked one finger. The dagger spun across the ground into his
grasp. "Sorry," he said. "But I won't hurt you. You mustn't hurt me.
Are you slaves?"
What was this Luke creature? His face looked placid, even kind .
. . but she couldn't trust that power in his voice and his right hand,
and she didn't want to be kidnapped twice. She backed off again. Her
left foot struck something. "Ouch!" squeaked Sienn.
"Come with me," Luke whispered. "I'll hide you. If anyone sees me, I
have to . . . hide." Now he was underestimating her grasp of Basic.
"Or . . . I have to get rid of them."
Oola scooted deeper and scooped up a handful of sand.
"I don't mean you." His smile seemed genuine, though she was no judge
of humans. "I'll get you to the Rebel Alliance. They don't buy or sell
anyone."
According to Master Fortuna's people, the Rebel Alliance was even more
dangerous than the Empire. She held her ground.
The human--Luke--turned to address Sienn.
"Come with me?" he cajoled.
Oola twisted around to warn her partner against it.
Sienn widened her eyes and smiled. She raised up on hands and knees and
crawled forward.
"That's it," the stranger encouraged her.
"Sienn!" Oola hissed. Sienn scrambled past her.
Luke touched Sienn's shoulder, resting one hand on silky yellow fabric.
"Hurry," he urged. Backing out of the sweltering shelter, he eyed Oola
again. She fancied that he pitied her. "Won't you let me help you?
You won't get a second . . . chance. Do you know 'chance'?"
Even as Oola felt the tug of his influence, her pride and jealousy
flared. "We've been chosen to dance in Jabba's palace," she insisted,
"the grandest on Tatooine. We're a pair. We go to Jabba together."
"It's the grandest on Tatooine, all right," Luke admitted.
He draped his cloak over Sienn. "But I have" --again the "bizz-ness"
word she couldn't translate--"there.
It won't be pleasant. Jabba's palace isn't what you think."
Abruptly Oola remembered stormtroopers at the spaceport, searching
incoming ships . . . for someone.
She stared at the crouched figure in his rough but dignified black.
Built like a dancer, he moved with controlled energy. And he still held
her knife. She hadn't seen much of the galaxy, but she knew how to
piece clues together. She made a swift guess. "Are you the one the
Empire is looking for? At the spaceport?"
Luke shrugged. He glanced over his shoulder.
"Probably. We have to hurry. Come on. I'll set you free."
Free? On this planet? What kind of life would that be?
She'd tried to reconcile herself to slavery. But freedom was better
than servitude, even in the finest palace.
Then again . . . Oola envisioned herself lying on soft tufted cushions,
savoring the finest raw fungi, summoning energy for another glorious
dance. She thought of the thunderous praises she'd win. She hesitated.
"Please come," Luke whispered. "Jabba will k"
"Hey? shouted a familiar voice. "Get away from those girls!"
Oola peered out from under the sail toward the street. Rudd had
reappeared around the corner of one blocky building. Bib Fortuna hung
back, looking as darkly elegant as ever with his high bony crest and
thick lekku. Protruding from his cloak, half-gloves and studded
wristbands set off his long, clawed fingers.
She'd found his hands fascinating, that fateful night back at home.
He was temptation.
He was evil, she realized with a shock that almost leveled her.
Evil.
Rudd held his blaster at the ready. "All right, you.
You're asking for it. That's Jabba's property."
"I don't care much for Jabba." Luke thrust Sienn behind him.
Slightly shielded, she plunged toward better cover. A crushed nose cone
jutted out of the debris pile. Sienn dove behind it. Luke pressed into
the nearest alcove and shoved at what looked like a door.
It didn't open.
Oola cringed.
"Hah!" Rudd fired. His shot splattered into sand just behind Luke's
left leg. The sand melted into a glassy puddle. "I'm not killing you
yet," he jeered.
"First, you're going to learn not to tinker with Jabba's belongings."
Luke flattened against the building. His face looked deadly calm.
Fortuna had warned her: please Jabba, and she'd reap the finest rewards.
Cross him, and expect worse than her worst imaginings.
Jabba must be evil too. She had to stop this. Somehow.
What could she do?
Finally Luke seized the strange object at his belt and unhooked it, then
held it out two-handed. To Oola's astonishment, a glowing green shaft
appeared at one end. Luke stepped out of the doorway toward Rudd.
The step dropped hin into a deep dueling stance, and he wielded the
glimmering weapon with long, strong sweeps of his arms and shoulders.
The weapon's weird metallic hum changed pitch as he swung it. Blaster
bolts deflected in all directions. Not one touched him.
Oola gaped. He wasn't just built like a dancer. He moved like one.
His head turned. "Go!" .he shouted at Sienn.
"Run!" That was for Oola.
Oola hesitated. Rudd had seen Luke. As Oola understood, Luke had to
kill him now. He was hiding from the Empire.
What about Master Fortuna?
"Stop that!" Rudd crouched. He steadied one elbow on his knee and
fired off a continuous volley.
Luke stepped closer and continued to parry. Rudd didn't seem to realize
his own danger.
Oola cast a glance around for her tall master.
At the edge of the debris, Fortuna slunk toward Sienn. He brandished a
blaster of his own. He probably meant to stun Sienn, then kill Luke . .
. if Rudd didn't get him. He rounded the nose cone
and aimed his
blaster. Sienn shrank against jumbled debris, trapped like a child with
no place to run or hide. Oola had one moment of choice.
"Sienn!" Oola shrieked. "Go! Run!" She dashed at Fortuna, seized the
flapping edge of his black robes, and twined her lekku around his
shoulders in mock passion. Rolls of fat shook at the base of his neck.
The blaster fell from his elegant hand. He bent backward to grope for
it. "Get off," he seethed. "Get off me, you little fool."
Oola's sudden panic made Mos Eisley seem chilly. If Luke meant to kill
Fortuna, she'd just jumped into his line of fire. She tried to pull
free. Her lekku tangled with Fortuna's.
Bib caught her wrist in a grip that drove his nails into her flesh.