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“I see that you are as fond of gloom as we Hutts are,” Randa told Chine-kal after he had been announced and introductions had been made.

The commander smiled pleasantly. “We favor obscurity when it suits our purpose.”

Randa attributed the ambiguity of Chine-kal’s remark to the inexperience of the Yuuzhan Vong translator. “You must come to Nal Hutta, Commander, and visit my parent’s palace. I’m certain you would find it to your liking.”

Chine-kal’s politic smile held. “We’ve heard much about it, young Hutt. Commander Malik Carr was very impressed.”

“As Borga was with Commander Malik Carr,” Randa replied with courtly poise. “I am eager to learn as much as I can of your operations, so that we Hutts may expedite your needs.” His protruding black eyes disappeared briefly behind the membranes that kept them moist. “With so many worlds falling to your superior might, the task of ferrying captives about must be growing tiresome.”

“The task distracts us from our principal objective,” Chine-kal allowed. “Which is precisely why we are as eager to instruct as you are to learn.”

“Then the sooner we begin, the better,” Randa said.“But perhaps you could first show me to my quarters so that I might refresh from the journey.”

“We have prepared a place for you, Randa Besadii Diori,” the priest answered. “On the way, we thought we might introduce you to the ship’s most prestigious passenger.”

Randa pressed his hands together in a gesture of respect. “I would be honored.”

Chine-kal voiced a brusque command to his guards, who snapped their fists to their opposite shoulders and arranged themselves in an escort formation, some advancing through an iris portal in the hold’s biotic bulkhead while others fell in behind Randa and his retinue.

They moved deeper into the ship, passing from one module to the next, on occasion lifted by decks that bulged under them like a tongue being raised to the roof of a mouth. Illumination varied, but the bioluminescence of the bulkheads rarely provided more than a faint glow. What did increase was a certain tang in the air, which while not unpleasant tended to irritate the nasal passages and promote the flow of mucus and tears. Lubricious by design, Randa found the conditions most agreeable.

Chine-kal brought the procession to a halt in the rank belly of the ship and directed Randa’s attention to an aperture in the membranous bulkhead that provided a vantage into an adjacent hold. Below, centered in a circular tank of syrupy liquid, floated a tentacled life-form that could only have been created by the Yuuzhan Vong. Sharing the tank with the creature—and plainly attending to it—stood several dozen captives, anywhere from knee- to shoulder-deep in the liquid. Tended to in kind, a few of the captives were being stroked by the tentacles. In one case a human male was entirely entwined by two of the slender appendages.

Randa found himself thinking about certain members of the Desilijic clan who were fond of chaining dancers or servants to themselves. Again his eyes were drawn to the fully embraced human. In the midst of regarding the several beings in close proximity to the human, Randa turned excitedly to his Twi’lek majordomo.

“Are those Ryn?” he asked, indicating them with one of his stubby arms.

The Twi’lek regarded them and nodded. “I believe they are Ryn, Excellency.”

Chine-kal followed the exchange and asked for a translation. “Something has caught your eye, young Hutt?”

“Indeed, Commander,” Randa said. “You have succeeded in capturing a somewhat rare specimen.”

“To which do you refer?”

“You see the human your creature takes such an interest in?”

Chine-kal gazed down at the yammosk and its captive attendants. “Keyn, that one is called.”

“The sharp-nosed bipeds next to and opposite him,” Randa elaborated. “And there, at the adjacent tentacle. They are Ryn—an entertaining species, highly prized by the Hutts, though often disparaged by others.”

“Prized for what?”

“They are celebrated for their skill at dancing and singing, but their real talent is prognostication.