Star Wars_ Tales From Jabba's Palace - Kevin J. Anderson [55]
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 great Jabba the Hutt says you are to leave him now,” the protocol droid said, still gazing forlornly after the departing skiff. “He says a landspeeder 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 Skywalker’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 landspeeder 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