Star Wars_ Young Jedi Knights 08_ Diversity Alliance - Kevin J. Anderson [30]
Her entire life had become one of servitude-dancing and otherwise pleasing the whims of those who had paid to own her, body and soul.
Twi'lek dancing girls were highly prized throughout the galaxy.
One of the despicable criminals of their own species, Bib Fortuna, had cast his lot in with the highest bidder and acted as a simpering henchman to a crime lord, with no pride in himself or in his people.
Fortuna had purchased Oola and other dancing girls, dragging them against their will to serve Jabba the Hutt. Oola had served indeed, and served well.
Nolaa had dug deep to find details of her half-sister's time in the Hutt's palace, even receiving spy-holo images of how well Oola had danced, the grace with which she moved, her greenish skin glistening with sweat, her head-tails flying about like the wind in a storm. Oola had given the Hutt everything he wanted--until one day, on a whim, Jabba had fed her to his pet rancor. The imprisoned monster had devoured Nolaa's dear half-sister in much the same way that Hovrak now snacked on the hapless scam artist in the cell. Ah well.
At least the scam artist was a mere human.
Nolaa felt a twinge of sadness at the memory of her half-sister, imagining how, together, they could have proven themselves to the galaxy at large. But soon she let the grief turn to anger. Nolaa had always found anger to be a more productive emotion anyway.
Finally, the wolfman emerged from the cell, wiping blood spatters from his muzzle and his fur with a self-moistened napkin.
Then he tossed it away, along with the stained apron he had worn to protect his Diversity Alliance uniform. He meticulously combed his black-brown hair and, using a long claw to pick a shred of food from between his sharp teeth, straightened his Adjutant Advisor uniform again. "Now then, Esteemed Tarkona, shall we return to work?"
"Yes," Nolaa said, stroking her single head-tail and walking back to the private meeting chambers. "We have only a standard hour until I must depart for the grand campaign on Chroma Zed. If we do our work properly there, we can gain converts throughout that system."
"Let's hope so," the wolfman said. "I don't believe the Chromans are on our list yet."
They returned to the private chamber, and Hovrak punched his electronic data-pad again. "Now then, let's see..." Another alien appeared in the holographic projector, a blue-skinned goatlike creature with a trio of eyes on stalks protruding from its forehead.
"The Grans, easily distinguishable by their three eyes.
Traditionally unreliable, easily bribed, and quickly addicted to drugs or liquors... but shrewd and often underestimated.
If we could recruit several, they could infiltrate the seediest cantinas in the galaxy.... " The Adjutant Advisor continued through the alphabet.
RAABA SPRINTED AHEAD on her long Wookiee legs, leading the way to safety as they fled up broken ramps and half-collapsed staircases in the honeycombed warrens of the cliffside stadium. A network of sagging chains draped across the dust-filled crater, connecting to weathered build-ingtops in a sinister high-wire network.
Raaba cinched her ragged headband, once bright red but now faded to a dusty carmine, more tightly around her forehead.
She chuffed at them to hurry and continued to lope through alternating islands of sunlight and barricades of shadows.
"Dear me, all this running is beginning to jiggle my circuits loose," Em Teedee said. "I do wish we could pause so that Raabakyysh could explain a few things. I'm most curious to know why she would allow poor Master Lowbacca to believe she was dead all this time."
Just then, a series of clattering, rustling noises came from several cliffside tunnels, like the ghostly echoes of long-departed