Star Wars_ Tales From Jabba's Palace - Kevin J. Anderson [74]
The day was oven-hot and dry, like all days on Tatooine. Ree-Yees took his station beside Jabba, not so near as to arouse Tessek, but near enough to appear devoted. He let his attention wander, for one execution was much like another. One side eye rested on the loathsome yellow sands, the other on the equally loathsome dancing girl, now crumpled in a heap at the foot of Jabba’s sled. When the new R2 droid wheeled about, serving drinks, Ree-Yees accepted a pink and green Bantha Blaster. It fizzed all the way down. An instant later, his teeth rattled and his eyestalks felt as if they were on fire. He followed it up with a Wookiee-Wango, made with Sullustan gin and stirred, not shaken.
By Doellin’s triple teats, that R2 unit could mix drinks! Ree-Yees wondered if there were some way to take the droid with him back to Kinyen.
A ruckus from the prison barge jarred him alert. Ree-Yees stumbled to the railing and peered out. Someone was laying about with a lightsaber and everyone was shouting at once. The two new droids scrambled out of their programmed patterns. Ree-Yees grabbed a Rummy Tonic from the R2 before it rolled out of sight.
The deck boiled with frantic action. Blast pistols and lasers went off in all directions. Gamorrean guards ran about, squealing, while Jabba bellowed out orders. A Weequay pushed past Ree-Yees, spilling his drink, and rushed to the side of the barge.
Ree-Yees glanced around, searching for the safest hiding place. He decided, after a moment’s hesitation and the sight of several of Jabba’s defenders tumbling into the Sarlacc’s maw, to remain right where he was, safe behind Jabba’s repulsor sled. Tessek, he noticed, had already disappeared, abandoning Jabba to save his own hide. That bantha-brain—did he think Jabba wouldn’t notice?
Ree-Yees tossed his empty glass aside, then tried to think how a loyal retainer, defending his master, might act. Here his imagination failed him.
Without warning, the two-eyed female scrambled to her feet and looped her chains over Jabba’s head.
Arrrgh! Unnngh! Jabba let out a series of inarticulate howls as the chains dug into the folds of his neck. His eyes rolled and his massive body heaved.
The human female braced herself against the Hutt’s bulk and hauled on the chains with surprising energy for one of such spindly limbs. By Doellin’s triple earballs, what did she think she was doing?
Jabba’s eyes lit on Ree-Yees and he bellowed again. One stubby hand lifted in Ree-Yees’s direction.
Ree-Yees hesitated. He knew perfectly well that Jabba meant for him to come to his aid. But what if he pretended not to notice, what if he did … nothing? What an appealing idea! All he had to do was wait a few moments longer, while the slave did all the work and left him to take the credit with the Empire.
But if by some chance Jabba survived—as well he might, for Hutts were notoriously robust—Ree-Yees could claim he’d tried to save him. Perhaps he’d better move a little closer, to make it look realistic …
Even as Ree-Yees took a step toward the thrashing Hutt, he felt a metallic pressure deep within his belly. Jabba’s voice, garbled and rasping, echoed through his skull. He staggered sideways, eyestalks shuddering, hands pawing the sides of his head. He heard his own voice bleating in terror, saw little explosions of brightness behind his eyes, like miniature firestorms.
In Ree-Yees’s center eye, he saw the female slave pulling and pulling, her head thrown back with effort, the muscles