Star Wars: Darksaber

by Kevin J. Anderson

  “I’m as ready as I’m going to be,” Han said, brushing his brown hair and letting out a long breath. “Still can’t believe I’m making myself look pretty for a Hutt.”

  “I doubt Lord Durga would notice, sir,” Threepio added helpfully. “The Hutts have a different standard of beauty, you know. In fact I have learned—”

  “Not now, Threepio,” Han said and offered his arm to Leia as he escorted her toward the door.

  “Some other time, perhaps,” Threepio said and hurried after them.

  Out in the common room Winter sat on a padded seat with the three children on the floor as she spoke to them, telling a detailed story she had memorized word for word.

  Leia’s personal servant had helped her through many difficult times, guarding the children during the most vulnerable early years in their Force-sensitive lives. Winter had a flawless memory and never needed to refresh her thoughts, able to recall word for word anything she had heard or read in her life. Despite her calm, emotionless demeanor, Winter carried the deepest and most unshakable loyalty for Leia herself and for the New Republic.

  Winter seemed to enjoy her role of watching the three children while Leia and Han kept enormously busy with matters of state. Her new position allowed her to continue advising Leia as an appropriate confidante, yet remain behind the scenes.

  Jacen and Jaina leaped to their feet, scuttling over to greet Leia and Han. “Hey!” Han cried and grabbed the twins in a bear hug. Jacen’s brown hair was tousled—as it always was—while Jaina’s hung straight and neat. Anakin remained quiet and politely seated, patiently waiting for Winter to continue the story. He got up when it was his turn for a hug.

  “Winter will watch you,” Leia said to the children. “Mommy and Daddy have an important meeting with a Hutt.”

  The children snickered. Han looked at her with raised eyebrows and a see-I-told-you-so expression on his face. “Come on, Goldenrod,” he said to Threepio. “We sure wouldn’t want to be late for our ‘diplomatic necessity.’ ”

  They left their quarters, and a pair of permanently stationed guards escorted them down the hall. Threepio rattled on as they marched. “Perhaps some background would be of use in your upcoming negotiations, Mistress Leia? I have recently downloaded—”

  “We don’t know if there are going to be any negotiations, Threepio,” Leia said. “The Hutts are the biggest gang of criminals in the galaxy. They took me prisoner and then they tried to kill us all. I don’t think we should expect too much kindness.”

  “Yes, yes, but it would be most useful to have a basic understanding of Hutt philosophy, as I interpret it according to the—admittedly sparse—information I’ve been able to find,” Threepio said.

  “The Hutts originally came from a system called Varl, whose star suffered some sort of disaster. And so they were forced to move to another planetary system. They took over an entire planet through devious business dealings, until they managed to evict the former inhabitants and claim the world for themselves. They renamed it Nal Hutta, which, in their own language, means ‘glorious jewel.’ The moon of Nal Hutta was named Nar Shaddaa, but in common parlance, it is known as the Smugglers’ Moon.”

  “We’ve been there, Threepio,” Han said, bored.

  “Oh, yes! I forgot. In any case, the Hutts have an extremely involved clan system, and no one outside is permitted to know the family name of any Hurt—thus, Jabba’s own clan name was known only to his relatives.”

  “Very interesting,” Han mumbled as they turned the corner and headed toward the rear of the presidential receiving room. “I sure can’t understand why the kids would rather have Winter tell them a bedtime story.”

  “Why, thank you, sir,” Threepio said, missing Han’s irony entirely. “Actually, very little is known about how the Hutt clans interact—although certain accidents and disasters have led some to speculate on interclan warfare in which stronger Hutt families wipe out weaker ones.”

  The guard at a large door leading into the receiving room stood aside. Leia passed through, shoulder to shoulder with Han. “Thanks Threepio. That’ll be all,” she said.

  “Ah, but I have so much more to tell you,” the droid continued.

  “Take a hint, Goldenrod,” Han said more loudly.

  “I … take your meaning, sir,” Threepio said, then whirred quietly after them into the receiving room.

  Leia leaned over and whispered to Han as they passed into the echoing room. “Han, the Hutt crime empire is very powerful, and we’ll need to show them diplomatic courtesy. We’ve got to at least pretend to be civil.”

  Han rolled his eyes, then pulled his elbow against his side, pressing her hand to his ribs in a warm gesture. “Pretend?” Han said. “Pretending happens to be one of my strong suits. You just watch.”

  Another set of escorts followed them on either side of inlaid flagstones that formed a promenade to a pair of impressive-looking chairs. Leia didn’t like the frivolous display. It seemed too regal, too Imperial—but appearances were very important in public spectacles and matters of state. While the senators and the military leaders formed the backbone of her power, Leia herself was the Chief of State and President of the Senate. She was the visible face on all decisions made for the government, and so she was forced to play her part with grace and charisma.

  Leia had had her difficulties with some members of the council, particularly those who wished her to remain at home for her entire term of office and never venture out to the scattered but reluctant planets who expressed interest in joining the New Republic. That just wasn’t her style.

  Leia seated herself in the Chief of State’s chair and tried to collect her thoughts. Han shifted beside her, crossing and uncrossing his arms over his dress shirt, then gripping the scrolled work of the armrests. He looked bored already.

  Electronic fanfare sounded from outside the chamber. The doors at the other end of the room groaned open, dragged by sluggish worker droids that were no more than boxy torsos upon which were fastened heavy arms and legs for performing difficult labor.

  As the doors opened and Durga’s entourage passed into the reception chamber, Leia saw that the Hutt crime lord also knew the value of spectacle.

  The bloated wormlike creature reclined on a broad pallet that drifted above the floor on a cushion of repulsor-lifts. But Durga moved forward through the plodding efforts of a team of Gamorrean slaves lashed to the floating platform by red velvet bonds. The piglike guards kept their squinting eyes to the polished flagstones. Drips of moisture splattered the floor as the Gamorreans either perspired heavily or simply drooled.

  Stooped, lizard servants trooped into the audience chamber in front of the Gamorrean guards. Their triangular heads bobbed low to the ground as they placed electronic music synthesizers to their lips and hissed into the voice pickups. The computer then processed and transmitted the noises as beautiful brassy reception music.

  Durga the Hutt heaved himself up, as if to emphasize his importance. If anything, Durga seemed even fatter than Jabba. His sloping head was like a sagging mound of slime, stained by some sort of birthmark like dark green ink thrown in his face; his huge round eyes were like spoiled fruit. His childlike hands seemed out of place on his swollen body.

  What made Leia’s breath catch in her throat, though, were the dozens and dozens of hairy creatures swarming over Durga and his retainers like large simian lice. The creatures were each about the size of Leia’s forearm with grayish brown fur and large curious eyes. Each one had four supple arms that ended in dexterous fingers. The two legs appeared flexible enough to be used as a third set of arms and hands, should the need arise. The creatures constantly shifted position like vermin, blinking their eyes and staring in all directions as if voracious for information.

  Threepio stepped forward and spoke his preprogrammed message. “The New Republic gives greeting to mighty Durga,” he said, but then his own personality won out. “And—if I might be permitted to ask—what are those furry … creatures with y
ou?”

  “Does a protocol droid speak for you?” Durga said in his deep belly voice.

  “I would appreciate an answer to his question,” Leia said. “I am Chief of State Leia Organa Solo.”

  “My immediate apologies for the … unsettling dealings you have had with Hutts in the past,” Durga said. “My people have been known to carry grudges for a long time, because we are such long-lived creatures.”

  “Yeah? Well, Jabba didn’t live so long,” Han muttered. Leia gestured for him to be quiet.

  “Times change,” Durga continued, clasping his small hands in front of him. “Many of my clan members are disturbed that I should speak to you, but it means a great deal to me. I am willing to let past matters fade to shadows for the profit and improvement of our situations. I would appreciate if you could do the same, at least for the sake of these conversations.”

  Leia nodded, cool and aloof. “I agree for the moment,” she said, “but you still haven’t answered my droid’s question. I, too, am interested in your furry companions. We haven’t seen their like before.”

  “Ah, please excuse me,” Durga said. “These are the Taurill, semi-intelligent creatures, busy workers and good pets. They passed all quarantine scans when we arrived on Coruscant. They are insatiably curious and would like to explore. They intend no harm.”

  Leia then used a tactic Luke had taught her, urging that even if she did not intend to become a full Jedi Knight, she should at least learn to use her Force sensitivity in diplomatic matters. This was a skill Leia couldn’t afford to ignore, and as she sat calm-faced, her mind worked furiously, attempting to sense the real purpose behind Durga’s mission.

  She detected distant reactions from the Gamorrean guards—who knew virtually nothing about their own situation. The Taurill were a fuzzy, confusing mass of faint impressions … but Durga the Hutt remained a blank wall to her. Somehow, his mind was strong enough to resist her probing, or perhaps the Hutts were genetically shielded, because she remembered that Luke also could not read or manipulate Jabba the Hutt.

  “If my pets make you uncomfortable,” Durga said in a conciliatory tone, “I would be happy to remove them from my person.” He clapped his small hands together, and the Taurill scattered, departing from his platform and leaping on to the shoulders of the Gamorrean guards. Leia guessed there must be at least a hundred of the frenetic little creatures. They scampered across the flagstoned floor examining alcoves, planetary banners, and displays. One ran up and studied Threepio, and the golden droid tried to shoo it away.

  “Durga, I must insist that you control—” Leia began.

  “Pay them no mind,” Durga spoke in a loud, commanding tone. “They’ll cause no damage. Now, to the point of my visit.”

  Beside her, Han flicked his glance nervously around as the Taurill wandered about the room, poking into corners, creeping behind their chairs.

  Leia was forced to regain her composure so she could outthink the Hutt crime lord. She thought she knew what Durga was trying to do. He wanted to rattle them, distract her into giving something away—but she wouldn’t let him manipulate her. She stonily pretended that the distracting creatures were not there. That would fluster him.

  “Yes, Durga,” she said. “I am most interested in your mission to Coruscant. What brings a Hutt crime lord to an audience with the legitimate government of the New Republic?”

  Durga spread his arms wide. “Madam President, your words wound me. Let us not begin these talks with definitions of crime lords and legitimate governments. We are all trying to do what is best for ourselves. The Hutt kajidic, the clan system of business that my brothers and I have established, encompasses a great many worlds—a significant fraction, I daresay, of your own New Republic. The Hutts do not want war—commercial or actual—and I don’t believe your fledgling government can afford a drawn-out struggle either. Unlike the Empire, we Hutts have an invisible web of influence and relationships in places you cannot imagine, far more than a simple military garrison you can strike.”

  He blinked his heavy-lidded eyes. “However, I do not come here to make threats, but an overture of peace. Although you called our operations a ‘criminal empire,’ I’m here to offer an end to all that unpleasantness.

  “Our simplest solution is legitimacy. I propose that the Hutts form an alliance with the New Republic, become commercial partners. If you legalize our activities, then we are no longer a criminal empire, but a respected commercial venture. Is that not true?” he said with a gesture toward the ceiling as if to indicate his high hopes.

  “We Hutts could carry out our business without the need for secrecy and security, and thereby increase our profits enormously. We would pay appropriate taxes and tariffs, and the New Republic would grow stronger as well. You could then marshal your defenses toward fighting your true enemies, rather than simple business competitors such as ourselves.”

  “Is that the only reason?” Leia said, trying to keep the skepticism from her voice. The Taurill continued their relentless poking and prodding and investigating, but Leia fixed her gaze on Durga the Hutt.

  “We Hutts have our pride,” Durga continued. “It is our greatest wish to become respectable, true businessmen rather than powerful outlaws.”

  “I see,” Leia said. Using her mask of diplomatic training, she smiled—but in her mind she vowed that all the stars in the galaxy would burn to cold ash before she ever entered into an alliance with the Hutts.

  Just then one of the New Republic honor guards, who had tried valiantly to remain quiet during the negotiations, attempted to scare away two of the Taurill that had begun crawling on him like mammalian spiders. They climbed the guard’s uniform though he swiped at them to brush them off. He swung his ceremonial blaster rifle, trying to jostle them free.

  One of the Taurill grabbed the weapon as if it were a tree branch and pulled himself on to the end. The other Taurill climbed the length of the guard’s forearm to the firing button of the blaster and accidentally—though Leia had the odd impression that it might have been intentional—pushed the firing stud. The rifle fired, blasting the hapless Taurill at the end of the barrel into a flaming ball of furry cinders.

  Durga’s wide mouth dropped open like a trapdoor. The other Taurill shrieked in sudden panic. The guard gaped down at his blaster rifle in dismay. “I didn’t mean it!” he said.

  The hundred Taurill in the reception chamber fled in all directions with an ear-splitting volley of panicked chitters, heading out the door, into the air ducts, hiding behind the chairs and in any shadowy corner.

  “Don’t let them escape!” Durga howled. “They are my pets, and I would be most displeased to lose any of them.” The Hutt glared at the poor New Republic guard as if he wanted to feed him to a rancor.

  The honor guards instantly broke formation, rushing around to grab the multiarmed pets. The Gamorreans turned in circles, champing their tusks, clearly not understanding what had just happened. Threepio flailed his golden arms and ran after several of the creatures.

  Leia sent for more assistance, but she knew the vast echoing corridors of the enormous Imperial palace offered infinite places for the Taurill to hide.

  Han lounged back in his chair with a wry, lopsided grin. “Told you we shouldn’t have bothered to dress up,” he said.

  * * *

  In the confusion, three of the Taurill easily made it to their destination, winding through the air ducts, between walls, and along pipes, descending deep below the former Imperial palace into the shielded secret chambers far down in the bedrock.

  The Imperial Information Center.

  The Taurill were a hive mind, a single organism with thousands and thousands of bodies sharing one collective consciousness. Each of the individual creatures was merely an extra set of eyes and ears and hands to do the bidding of the Overmind that controlled all of its members.

  Durga had discovered the Taurill in the Outer Rim and had paid dearly for information on how to exploit the scattered mass mind. Du
rga had then quietly executed the one explorer and xenobiologist who had uncovered the secret of the Taurill. Now only Durga knew what the cute, furry creatures were actually capable of.

  He had entered into a pact with the Taurill, promising the Overmind great wealth and power—but what the Overmind really wanted was to spread itself out across the reaches of the galaxy, dispersing its members to different star systems so that it could grow. Durga was only too happy to comply.

  Now, while dozens of the Taurill remained in the diplomatic reception room, creating a diversion and acting innocently confused and frightened, these three Taurill commandos slipped into the shielded computer database compiled by Emperor Palpatine himself.

  The room was cold and sterile, smelling of metal. The doors were guarded by heavily armed assassin droids. Mechanical slicers hunched over the information terminals, jacked in and focused entirely on their work.

  The Taurill emerged from tiny access openings, scrunching themselves down to make their bodies small enough to pass through. On nimble feet they pattered across the cold floor plates, swinging their four arms until the three reached separate access terminals.

  The Taurill crawled up and began work at different stations, punching through obscure menus, finding the information they needed. Although the system was heavily guarded and passworded, the Taurill entered the special codes and phrases that had been obtained from Jabba’s secret stash of information. Before long, the Taurill had broken through.

  One of them inserted a small information cylinder and began downloading the precious plans. Data spilled into the compact new container. After only a few moments, their mission was complete.

  The Taurill secreted away their data cylinder, and in unison the three furry commandos scampered back to the access openings.

  The Overmind knew exactly what had been accomplished and transmitted that information to Durga through one of the calm and recaptured Taurill bodies up in the reception room.

  Durga petted the creature, rumbling with pleasure.

  In the reception chamber Leia held her head in her hands, wondering how to salvage the situation—but also trying to stifle a laugh. She didn’t particularly care if Durga’s dignity had been offended.