shuffling behind her on the tunnel floor. She spun around, dropping
into combat stance.
The Gamorrean guards she'd left at the top of the tunnel had caught up
with her. And they'd brought a half-dozen friends with them.
Two by two, blocking her exit with their bulk, they started toward her.
Mara didn't have time for this, and she wasn't in the mood for it
anyway. Reaching Out with the Force, she jabbed hard at the minds of
the first two guards. They stopped short, quivered for a moment on
their thick legs, their long force pikes dropping with a clatter from
limp hands. Then, to the obvious consternation of those behind them,
they collapsed.
Mara had one of the force pikes in her hands before they hit the floor.
Swinging it expertly around in the confines of the tunnel, she feinted
past the weapons of the second row of guards and slashed the deadly
power tip across their faces. They staggered, clutching their wounds,
and fell back against the third row. Jumping up on the backs of the
first downed Gamorreans, Mara again jabbed past the momentary tangle to
cut into the next row.
A brief minute later, it was over.
Breathing heavily, she turned back to the grating.
The force pike's vibroblade made a fair racket as it cut through the
metal, but there was probably enough of a ruckus coming down from
Jabba's throne room to cover it. Pitching the force pike through the
opening, she squirmed her way into the pit.
The place was even more disgusting than it had looked from the outside.
The door that had killed the creature was blocking any exit in that
direction, but there was a small round hatchway partway up the opposite
wall. The force pike made quick work of the hatchway, revealing a steep
but climbable slide behind it. Probably the end of the route that
started atJabba's trapdoor. Grabbing a nearby bone that was slightly
longer than the slide's width, she wedged it into the opening and pulled
herself inside. Alternating her bracing between the bone and her own
leg, she started up.
She came out a couple of meters short, the section directly beneath the
trapdoor turning out to be a wide, straight drop that funneled the
victim into the slide. Wedging the bone against the slide opening, she
eased her way up to a precarious standing position. A small connection
box was set into the wall; a careful prodding of the right connector,
and the two sections of the trapdoor dropped open above her.
No one fell through or peered down at her. In fact, what conversation
she could hear sounded distant.
Grimacing to herself, hoping she wasn't too late, she got a grip on the
edge of one of the trapdoors and started climbing.
The throne room was empty as she pulled herself over the edge, but the
rapidly fading noise showed her which way they'd all gone.
Following the sounds, watching for guards who may have been alerted
about her, she headed in pursuit. Skywalker was out there somewhere;
with luck and the Force--maybe she could still catch up with him.
Beyond the milling crowd in the vast vehicle hangar was a large sail
barge, busily taking on passengers. To one side a pair of skiffs were
similarly being loaded.
Guards were everywhere: human, Gamorrean, a half-dozen other species; on
the skiffs, on the sail barge, roughly controlling the crowd as they
weeded out those apparently not invited to go along.
Wherever Skywalker was in all that--assuming he was there at all --Mara
couldn't spot him.
But she could see Jabba. He was on his float, surrounded by guards and
lackeys, being maneuvered toward the sail barge's lift.
Pushing through the crowd, she hurried toward him.
The guards were watching as she approached, but she couldn't read
anything but normal caution in their faces and stances. Apparently,
word of her alleged involvement with this Lady Valarian hadn't gotten to
them yet. "Your Exaltedness?" she called, stopping just short of the
warning ring of weapons.
"Your Exaltedness? Please?"
Jabba turned his head toward her. "I'm Arica, Your Exaltedness," she
called. "One of your dancers.
Could I please come along with you?"
The Hutt rumbled something and gestured to one of the guards, who in
turn prodded the C-3PO protocol droid. "Oh--ah--the great Jabba the
Hutt says no," the droid translated distractedly, not even looking at
Mara. She followed his gaze to one of the skiffs Just in time to catch
a fleeting glimpse of Skywalker, standing proud and straight, as the
skiff took off through the hangar door.
And he was getting away. "Please, Your Exaltedness?"
Mara begged, putting all the strength of her most powerful Force
mind-control technique behind the words.
She might as well have spat at a stone wall. The Hutt chuckled, his
eyes swiveling to face her, and spoke again. "The greatJabba the Hutt
says you are to leave him now," the protocol droid said, still gazing
forlornly after the departing skiff. "He says a land-speeder will be
placed at your disposal, and that you are not to be seen here again."
For a moment Mara locked eyes with the Hutt, trying futilely to read
that impenetrable alien mind. Did he have some idea of who she was,
perhaps even of why she was here? Or did he merely suspect, as Melina
had, that she was part of a conspiracy and was hoping she would lead him
to his enemies?
It didn't really matter. She couldn't catch Sky-walker's skiff with a
landspeeder, and she couldn't fight all of them. One way or the other,
it was time to go.. "I thank Your Exaltedness for his kindness," she
said, matching ambiguity with ambiguity. "May you live forever."
So you have failed, the Emperor's thoughts said, the chill of his anger
sending a shiver through Mara despite the blazing heat of Tatooine's
twin suns. I am disappointed, Mara Jade. Disappointed, indeed.
I know, Mara answered, the bitter taste of defeat mixing with the grit
of sand in her mouth as the land-speeder skimmed across the desert. But
perhaps Jabba can deal.with him.
His anger had made her shiver. His contempt now made her ache.
Do you seriously believe that?
She sighed. No.
For a moment he was silent, and Mara could sense him reaching deeply
into the Force. Searching into the future . . . Skywalker is of no
immediate importance, he said at last. Continue on to Svivren.
We will discuss this when you return.
The image and sense faded, and he was gone.
With a sigh, Mara returned her full attention to the desert landscape
before her. So she had failed. Her first true failure since the
Emperor had designated her his Hand. It hurt. Terribly.
But it was all right. She would make it all right.
Skywalker might escape now, but he couldn't avoid her forever.
Eventually, somewhere, she'd catch up with him.
And then he would die. And Then There Were Some: The Gamorrean Guard's
Tale
by William F. Wu
GartOgg the Gamorrean guard was waddling through the dimly lit
corridor
of Jabba the Hutt's palace toward the servants' quarters on his assigned
patrol when he heard a disturbance behind him. The main entry slammed
shut and chains rattled; he paused, snorting thoughtfully. At the sound
of a Wookiee roaring in protest, Gartogg hurried back toward the main
entry, anxious to prove his worth to Ortugg, leader of the nine porcine
Gamorreans working here for Jabba.
"Ortugg," he gurgled. "Wait."
The Wookiee roared again as a bounty hunter pulled his prisoner by his
chains down the steps to the main audience chamber. Gartogg lumbered
after them, hoping to get in a good shove or two, but he was too
late--as usual. Ortugg and Rogua, the other Gamorrean posted at the
main entry with the chief, followed the bounty hunter and the Wookiee.
"Prisoner?" Gartogg came up behind Ortugg.
"Shut up," said Ortugg.
"Yeah, shut up." Rogua shouldered Gartogg back out of the way.
Gartogg said nothing as he stumbled backward. Or-tugg always treated
him this way, but Gartogg knew he deserved it. He had never really
earned his chief's respect. Members of other species here always joked
and complained about how stupid the Gamorreans were, but Gartogg didn't
believe that; to him, Ortugg, Rogua, and their other fellow guards
seemed as intelligent as the rest of Jabba's followers.
Jabba dickered with the bounty hunter as the crowd watched carefully.
"Boba Fett?" Gartogg asked, trying to shove between Ortugg and Rogua
again.
"Of course not," Ortugg muttered impatiently.
"Boba Fett's over there." He pointed through the crowd with a thick
green arm. "This bounty hunter's called Boushh."
"And the others call us stupid." Rogua shook his head.
Jabba spoke to the visiting bounty hunter.
"He agrees!" one of the new droids interpreting for Jabba announced
from Jabba's dais.
Jabba signaled for the Gamorrean guards to haul the Wookiee down to the
dungeon.
Ortugg and Rogua stepped forward to take the Wookiee's chains.
"Me, too." Gartogg lumbered after them.
Ortugg put a big green hand on his chest. "No. Go back to your
patrol."
"Sail barge," Gartogg grunted frantically.
"What?"
"Sail barge?"
"Speak plainly, you idiot. What about it?"
"Want to go. Next time."
"The rest of us Gamorreans speak in complete sentences!"
Rogua whacked Gartogg on the side of his head with his open hand.
"Why can't you?"
Gartogg blinked dizzily from the blow, snuffling.
"Huh?"
"You want to be assigned to the sail barge next time Jabba takes it
out?" Ortugg demanded.
Gartogg snorted in the affirmative.
Rogua snorted contemptuously.
"You must earn that kind of assignment," said Or-tugg.
"You never have."
"Audience chamber?" Gartogg asked hopefully.
"No! Return to your patrol!"
Stung, Gartogg watched in disappointment as Or-tugg and Rogua grabbed
the Wookiee's chains and dragged him away to the dungeon. As the band
struck up their, music, and the crowd in the audience chamber resumed
their party, Gartogg plodded away. He never had any fun.
As he wandered the dark, empty corridors alone as usual, he snuffled and
muttered to himself. Ortugg always ordered him to sentry duty at places
where nothing ever happened. When off duty, Gartogg wandered Jabba's
palace in the hope of finding something important to do. Even his
fellow Gamorrean guards didn't want his company. Every time they had a
special assignment, like protecting Jabba the Hutt on an excursion in
his sail barge, they left Gartogg behind.
Footsteps up ahead told him someone was coming this way Eagerly hoping
for company, he looked up and saw two familiar humans, a pale, slender,
brown-haired woman and a stocky man with-black hair and slanted eyes.
Gartogg had heard they were a couple of thieves hiding out with Jabba.
"Good evening," he snorted enthusiastically.
Both humans flinched in surprise and stared at him.
"What did he say?" Quivering, the woman whispered without taking her
eyes off Gartogg. "Ah Kwan, did you understand him?"
"Sorry, Quella," said Ah Kwan. "I can't tell what language that was."
"Good evening," Gartogg snorted, more loudly.
Both humans drew back.
"What do you want?" Ah Kwan rested one hand on the handle of a long
knife at his belt. "What did you say?"
"Good evening!" Gartogg roared in frustration, raising his clawed
fists.
The man and woman whirled and ran up the hall; in a moment, they
vanished around a corner.
Gartogg sighed. No one liked him. Alone, he trudged up the corridor.
It was always the same.
Earlier that day, as Gartogg had plodded alone through the shadowed,
empty corridors of the palace, he kept the peace by his very presence.
After all, nearly everyone he met, even the other Gamorrean guards,
hurried away when they saw him coming.
Gartogg heard a couple of loud footsteps, as though someone had tripped,
echoing in the corridor leading down to the servants' quarters. He
hurried to investigate, still longing for some special accomplishment he
could show his fellows, a contribution that Ortugg would respect. Maybe
then Ortugg would let him go the next time Jabba journeyed out on the
sail barge.
As fast as his thick, muscular legs could move, Gartogg thumped down the
corridor and turned a corner, hefting his ax optimistically.
He saw Porcellus, the human chef, kneeling over someone on the floor.
The chef was a very thin, jittery man with receding, dark blond hair; as
usual, he wore his white chef's uniform, perpetually smeared with all
sorts of ingredients with interesting aromas.
Gartogg liked Porcellus. The chef always had plenty of food lying
around the kitchen. All the Gamorrean guards went snorting and
snuffling around there for snacks. Last week, Gartogg had found four of
his fellow Gamorreans fighting in the kitchen over who could lick out
the bowl from a dessert. Delighted to join in the fun, Gartogg had
almost chopped off Porcellus's head with his ax by accident, but the
chef didn't seem to hold it against him. He was a good fellow.
Now Porcellus knelt over Ak-Buz, the commander of Jabba's sail barge.
Ak-Buz, a Weequay, lay motionless, sprawled on his back with his arms
outstretched and his eyes staring vacantly.
This was Gartogg's chance to think out the situation on his own.
He studied the scene. In his opinion, Ak-Buz did not look well.
"Hey!" Gartogg snorted. "What's happened here?"
Porcellus leaped to his feet, quivering. "What?"
Gartogg walked up to Ak-Buz and frowned down at him. "He's dead?"
"He isn't dead," Porcellus said quickly, his face shiny with sweat.
"He's asleep. He's resting. He said he was tired and he was going back
to take a nap. He must have . . . he must have fallen asleep right
here in the hall."
Gartogg studied Ak-Buz's unmoving face. Those staring eyes did not
move. Gart
ogg snuffled thoughtfully.
"Looks dead."
"Have you ever seen a Weequay sleep?"
"Uh . . . no."
"Well, there you are." Porcellus crouched and lifted Ak-Buz, tugging
one of the commander's arms around his shoulders. "Now I'm going to get
him to his quarters---er--before he wakes up."
Gartogg nodded. That would be good; Weequays shouldn't sleep in the
hallway. Someone could trip over him. "Want help?"
"Thank you," the chef said, smiling. "I'm fine."
Gartogg sighed. For a moment, he thought he had found something
important, like a corpse, but he was mistaken. Now he had been left
alone again, with nothing much to do.
Snorting in disappointment, he had plodded back upstairs.
Late that evening, Gartogg was wearily climbing the stairs up to the
guest quarters when he heard a single set of footsteps behind him.
Hoping something horrible might happen so he could catch the guilty
Tales From Jabba's Palace Page 16