Star Wars_ Tales From the Mos Eisley Cantina - Kevin J. Anderson [52]
Muftak, who’d returned to the bedside in time to hear most of the exchange, stared wide-eyed at the man. “What is on this dot that is of such value?” he asked.
Mesoriaam tried to raise himself, but he was too weak. “That is not for you to know. Tell the Mon Calamari it is for General Dodonna’s eyes only.”
“Barid Mesoriaam is a participant in the Rebellion against the Empire,” said K-8LR smugly. “They wish to restore power to the Senate, as I understand it. No doubt the datadot has something to do with Rebel plans.”
The Talz stroked his proboscis, thinking. “Here, Muftak, put this in your pouch,” Kabe ordered, holding out the datadot.
Muftak complied. “Rebels,” he repeated meditatively. “Kay-eight, what was Jabba trying to get out of him? Was he under Imperial order to do this?”
“My former master does not play favorites,” replied the droid. “He sells to the highest bidder. Unfortunately for him, no matter how Mesoriaam was tortured, he revealed nothing.”
“Since you know what I am and what this dot contains,” said Mesoriaam, “there is nothing to stop you from selling the information to the Prefect. But, if you do, remember that there is no place for nonhumans in the Empire. In the proud days of the Republic, all beings had equal status. Look around you and tell me if that is still the case.”
Kabe scowled impatiently. “If your friend’ll give us thirty thousand, I don’t care what he—” She whirled around abruptly. “What was that?”
Lights came on in the hall. “Oh, no,” said K-8LR. “This doesn’t seem to be a very promising turn of events.”
Muftak drew his blaster. “Let’s get out of here. Now.”
The Talz held his breath as he reached the hallway, brandishing his blaster, but no one was in sight. Kabe followed, trying to fit one more prize in her already full bag. “Jabba’s audience chamber, Muftak. That shapework must be worth millions!”
Muftak gaped at her, incredulous. “Kabe, are you crazy? We’ve got to—”
From out of the lounge sprang two burly, porcine Gamorreans brandishing axes, grunting obscenely. Muftak shoved Kabe behind him, and they backed away from the newcomers. The Talz triggered his blaster—but nothing happened. “Shoot them, Muftak!” Kabe shrilled.
Muftak emitted a frustrated hum. “I’m trying!”
Encumbered by his sack, he examined the weapon as best he could, backpedaling all the while. The Gamorreans squealed at each other, evidently making plans. Desperately, Muftak wiggled the power supply into better contact, saw the ignition coil begin to glow hot. Got it. Aiming, he fired at the nearest guard. The weapon spat, and the bolt of energy caromed off the guard’s axhead, which it was using as a shield. The Gamorleans dived for cover, just as a tiny Jawa appeared from another door, firing its blaster. Muftak coaxed out a few more shots, sending the Jawa scurrying back into hiding.
“This way!” Kabe was heading past the main entrance, a reinforced blast door big enough to admit the enormous Hutt. One glance told Muftak it was electronically locked.
The Chadra-Fan scurried in the direction of the audience room. “There’s another exit in here—hold them off while I get it open!”
“Hold them off?” Muftak cried. “How?” He followed Kabe, and they dashed into the huge, circular audience chamber. Dominating the far end of the room was the Hutt’s ornate wooden dais; over it hung a gigantic tapestry depicting a grotesque scene of Hutt family life.
Just as Kabe had promised, there was another, smaller door—but it too bore an electronic bolt. “Now what?” Muftak gasped. “We’re trapped!”
“Maybe I can get it open …” Kabe said uncertainly. “But I’ll need time …” Pulling out the nerve disruptor, she set it on the floor, pointing at the doorway, then turned it on. “I’ll use this to block the entrance!”
Time was against them—they’d only gotten halfway across the chamber before more Gamorreans charged through the door, howling like Tusken