Star Wars_ Tales From Jabba's Palace - Kevin J. Anderson [116]
Of all the things in Jabba the Hutt’s palace, only the B’omarr were creepier than Jabba himself. Somewhere, deep below the fortress, the surgically removed brains of the B’omarr were stacked in nutrient-filled jars, where for centuries they had been free to ponder the cosmos without the distraction of their senses. On rare occasions the brains sometimes called to one of the spiderlike droids, which would then convey the brain to the upper levels of the palace.
Tessek wondered at the creatures’ motives. Spies, all of them spies.
Tessek thumbed a switch, locking closed the door to his room, then climbed from his water tank, letting the precious fluid drip on the warm floors.
Too late, the B’omarr realized that he was caged, and the monk’s brain trapped in a spiderlike body scurried about the room, seeking to hide behind a bundle of clothes.
“Come on, oh great enlightened one,” Tessek teased, “face your impending death with equanimity.”
To his surprise, the monk stopped in mid-stride, then turned to face him, bright lights shining. It climbed atop the pile of dirty clothes, and stood regally, camera lenses aimed at Tessek.
“Do you face your own impending death with such equanimity?” The monk spoke through a tinny speaker at the spider’s belly.
Tessek laughed nervously, then began strapping a blaster at his hip, another at his left knee, then put vibroblades in sheaths on his back, on his right knee, and at his left wrist. He had thought to kill the monk immediately, but decided now to toy with it first.
“You pretend to know the future, to see my death?” Tessek asked. “Yet you failed to see your own?”
“Perhaps I came here seeking my own death,” the monk answered. “Perhaps I crave that perfect freedom, just as you crave freedom.”
“I am a free Quarren already,” Tessek said. “I work for Jabba on a daily basis, and I may leave his employment whenever I desire. I am free.” He finished sheathing his last knife, pulled out his blaster and checked to make sure it was fully charged, then set it to kill.
“You are not free to return to the green seas of your homeworld,” the monk argued, “for members of your Quarren species are held in contempt by the Mon Calamari. For years you served them, and now, because one Quarren betrayed them to the Empire, all Quarren have been made outcast. And you have vowed that someday you will make yourself free, that you will never serve as an inferior to a creature from another species.”
“How could you know of such things, confined as you are to the jugs below?” Tessek asked.
“I read your mind as you slept. I felt your craving, and I came to offer you the freedom you desire.”
“You can read my mind?” Tessek asked, suspecting that it was true.
“Indeed,” the monk said. “I know that you plot Jabba’s demise, but that you fear that your own henchmen—Ree-Yees, Barada, and the Weequays—are too inept and untrustworthy to carry out your plots.
“Actually, you are far wiser than your associates, wiser than Jabba himself.” Tessek suspected that the monk was trying to flatter him. “You hope to kill the Hutt, steal all his wealth that is strewn across the galaxy, and set yourself in his place. You imagine that by doing this, you will be free. You imagine that your wealth will buy you the respect and peace of mind that you crave …”
“But …?” Tessek asked.
“But in time you would discover yourself to be a slave of wealth, trapped in a web of suspicion and deceit, manipulated by the plots of beings very much like yourself. Even now, you struggle within such a web. Jabba suspects that you plan to kill him. His spy Salacious Crumb has been shadowing you, along with the guard Ortugg, and Bib Fortuna is well aware of your disloyalty. Jabba is following your efforts with great amusement, even as he plots your own untimely demise.”
“So, what am I to do?” Tessek asked uneasily, the whiplike tendrils at his mouth quivering. His hearts were pounding in his chest, and a bit