Star Wars_ Tales From Jabba's Palace - Kevin J. Anderson [83]
Max barely glanced at his room before pronouncing it satisfactory. He had, after all, requested quarters close to the kitchens. His proboscis told him food lay only a few doors away. Now that the first faint stirrings of hunger had begun, he was eager to find a bedtime snack before turning in.
“Come,” Cuthas said to Droopy, and he led the Kitonak off.
Max nodded happily. All in all, a successful day. He had a new job, he had a lifetime contract, and all the food he could eat. Life was good.
Shutting the door to his room, he followed his nose to the kitchens. He had to compliment the chef on the appetizers before getting his snack. No telling what desserts he might find waiting for him each day if the two of them became friends.
“Hey, you,” said a loud, gruff voice. “You are a Kitonak, aren’t you?”
Droopy McCool raised his head slowly and stared at the Gamorrean guard standing in the open doorway to his room. The guard stared back at him.
“Yes,” Droopy finally said.
“I thought so,” the guard said. He stared back at Droopy.
“Why?” Droopy finally said.
“I saw Kitonaks in the deep desert once,” he said.
“Oh,” Droopy said.
The next time he looked up, the Gamorrean had gone away. Still, it was enough to get his slow, slow mind moving.
Other Kitonaks in the deep desert … interesting.
Sy Snootles stared at the small fortune on her bed and pondered what to do. At first she had intended to report Lady Valarian’s offer to one of Jabba’s lieutenants in case it had been a test of some kind. But since then, she hadn’t had a moment to herself. Person after person kept knocking on her door making her offers to spy for them. All told, she had sixteen different commissions to work for sixteen different parties. Each had left a “token payment” for her services, ranging from a few dozen credits to a hundred and fifty. Now all sixteen pouches sat in a neat little row on her bed.
Of course, she’d agreed to spy for everyone.
It seemed there might be more money than she’d suspected in working for Jabba the Hutt … and from all the wrong sources. At this rate, she’d have enough to get off planet in just a few weeks.
She sat on a low chair, ignoring the mess on the walls, ignoring the sticky patches on the floor, ignoring the unkempt bedclothes, and waiting for the next knock.
It came a few seconds later.
“Come!” she called.
A humanoid slipped in—a Twi’lek with one of his twin head tentacles wrapped around his neck. Sy had seen him in Jabba’s throne room earlier, she recalled, standing near the Hutt and whispering things to him. She swallowed. This was certainly her most powerful visitor so far.
He glanced at the bed, at the line of pouches, then looked at her and smiled. It was not a pretty look, Sy thought with a little shiver.
“You have been busy tonight,” he said. “Sixteen visitors so far. I think you can expect two, possibly three more tonight, and a few others over the next week.”
“I was going to tell Jabba about it in the morning,” Sy began.
“No need, my dear.” He moved closer. “I am Bib Fortuna, and one of my jobs is heading up security for Jabba. I want you to take commissions from everyone who offers you one. Inform me as you are contacted. I will let you know what news to pass on.” He drew a small pouch from his belt and handed it to her. “Jabba pays much better than piddling second-raters like these … as you will learn.”
“Thank you,” Sy said, hardly daring to believe her good luck.
“Think nothing of it, my dear,” Bib Fortuna said. He took one look around her room, sniffed once, and as he left, added, “The housekeeping staff is located on level three, room 212. I suggest you get the room deloused before you spend the night.”
3. How the Band Became a Duo
Jabba’s throne room was really grooving, Max thought. In the months they’d been playing there, things hadn’t been better. The rancor had been fed, which always made Jabba happy, Sy was wailing for all she was worth, her stomach gyrating, and the droids had just served him a pair of small Largess cakes, courtesy