• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

Dubiously, and without getting any closer than was absolutely necessary, the majordomo scrutinized the shiftless pair. Closer inspection did not produce encouragement. “At the risk of insulting your judgment, if not them, O Bossban, I would say that they appear to be slightly felek. Mentally deranged. Addled.”

“Indeed they are. Just enough.” Looking hugely pleased with himself, as well as more than usually huge, Soergg leaned back on his tail. “In the course of carrying out research for my many business interests, I have discovered that even a minor mental illness is sometimes sufficient to confuse perception of the Force in those who are capable of it. Psychosis acts like a fogged piece of transparisteel, distorting but not completely hiding what lies beyond.” He gestured at his new hirelings. Bulgan smiled vacantly in response. “These two are indeed slightly mad. In their madness lies the secret of our success.”

Enlightened, Ogomoor eyed the pair with fresh interest, if not increased respect. “I’ve been trying to place their garb. While they’re obviously Alwari, I have to admit I don’t recognize their clans.”

“That is hardly surprising,” Soergg grunted, “since they have no clans. Because of their physical and mental infirmities, they have been cast out. Sent to live in the hated cities, where they eke out a living doing whatever work comes their way.” He beamed as much as a Hutt could beam. “With what I have agreed to pay them, they will do anything I ask. Anything! Even attempt to capture a Jedi Padawan.” He snorted derisively. “Like so many, credits mean more to them than morals.”

Including a people called the Hutts, Ogomoor thought.

“That’s so, it is,” declared Bulgan, speaking for the first time. His words were somewhat difficult to understand as he still had one finger up his nose.

“We’ll do it.” The elocution of his one-armed companion Kyakhta was somewhat better, being uninfracted by the kind of digital nasal blockage that was presently afflicting his companion. “We can do it.” As Kyakhta spoke, Bulgan blinked his one good eye; the thick, opaque Ansionian lid flashing meaningfully from left to right.

“The Jedi will not be able to sense their approach.” Soergg was visibly reveling in the inimitability of his plan.

“Not via the Force, perhaps, Bossban. But the humans still have eyes, and reactions more sharply honed than those of most sentients.”

The Hutt nodded patiently, having thought it all out in advance. “Our friends here will flatch the snatch late in the day. Even Jedi require the occasional break from their duties. The four who trouble us have been observed taking in the sights of Cuipernam. As they do so, sometimes they separate. Jedi they may be, but they are still of two different genders. The females often seek out different things than the males. If a younger Padawan can be caught out a distance away from its Master, the abduction may be accomplished. Most Jedi, so it is said, rely on their senses to warn them when danger approaches. Sensing no danger in these two idiots, they will ignore them as they continue with their sight-seeing.” With an imperious wave of one hand, he dismissed the two addled but willing kidnappers.

“Go now! You know where the visitors stay.” He smiled unpleasantly. “Everyone knows, as they are official guests of the Unity delegation and the city council of Cuipernam. If you succeed, take the Padawan to the chosen place and wait there for my further orders.”

Kyakhta turned and bowed. When Bulgan did not, his companion smacked the other clanless one on the back of his bald skull. Bulgan then turned and, being already bent, did not have to bow. But he did at least remove his finger from his nose. Together, they backed out of the room through the door that had granted them admittance. Ogomoor was still dubious—but a flicker of anticipation had begun to burn within him.

“An audacious plan, to be sure, Bossban. But risky.”

“What risk?” Lumbering to his right, Soergg shoved a fist into a bowl filled with turgid liquid and