The Bothan Way - by Vae Ardexa

 Vae studied the swirling kaleidoscopic vortex of the hyperspace tunnel, his senses extended, feeling the ship accelerate to incomprehensible speeds in a dimension that defied description. Hyperspace had always fascinated him, so different as it was from realspace. An important legacy from a bygone era and a piece of cultural significance to the heritage of the Force, the hyperdrive had first entered mainstream use during the reign of a long-vanished species known as the Rakata.

Harnessing the power of the Force - namely the Dark Side - and combining it with esoteric technology, they had achieved true interstellar travel, enabling the rapid and overwhelming expansion of their Infinite Empire. So alien and arcane was their technology, it was not until centuries after their fall that the inhabitants of Corellia succeeded in reverse engineering the technology and, most importantly, improved it: their new hyperdrive was purely a technological beast, requiring no use of the Force.

It was such innovation that had enabled the early Hutt Empire, a predecessor of the old Galactic Republic, to mercilessly expand their borders, dominating and enslaving lesser species in their bid to maintain economic supremacy. And now, as the YT-1300 Corellian light freigher Nomad drew closer and closer to Tatooine, powered by its on-board Corellian hyperdrive, Vae reflected on the mission at hand until the ship’s navicomputer signalled a warning beep.

“We’re here.” Devron said from the pilot’s chair, yielding control of the ship and the pilot’s chair to Vae. With a burst of prismatic light and a jolt, the Nomad reverted to realspace and the hyperdrive powered down, the sublight engines thrumming to life. Vae guided the ship through the inky blackness of space, ignoring the faint pinpricks of light that represented stars light years distant from here, focusing instead on the sandy expanse of planet before them.

“Tatooine. What a dustbowl.” Calling up a planetary map, Vae gestured to a region on the expanse of plateau before them. “I’ll drop you off on the outskirts of the Desilijic palace. Don’t get caught - Kuuba Desilijic is cruel, even by Hutt standards.”

“Have a little faith. Start the descent, I’ll get Teethree ready. I’ve got a few things I want him to carry.”

-----

After depositing Devron and Teethree far enough from Kuuba Desilijic’s palace to avoid detection by the sophisticated scanners the palace was equipped with, Vae directed the ship to a region not so distant and set down on the outskirts of another palace, one less grand in design though no less intimidating. Gathering his robe around himself and pulling the cowl up over his head to offer some protection from the burning light of the twin suns, he activated the anti-intrusion systems and descended down the boarding ramp.

Getting past the guards was a simple matter of mingling with the small group of urchins gathered outside the palace seeking entry, planting himself firmly in the midst of the press of people, and a small piece of force suggestion on a particularly dimwitted Gamorrean. Once inside, he followed the group to the main audience chamber, where he busied himself seated at the bar at an in-house cantina. Reposed on a platform held aloft by silent repulsorlifts - no small feat, given her immense bulk - was a particularly bulbous Hutt, her slug form painted and decorated with green and gold tattoos that curved from her globular head to the tip of her slimy tail: Deevah Besadii Tiron.

Thankful that Deevah’s in-house entertainment chose that particular moment to begin a rather loud and boisterous routine of singing and music-playing, Vae shifted his fur and inserted the earpiece. Ordering a cup of jawa juice from the Rodian bartender and bringing the cup to his lips, he muttered, “Devron, come in. What’s your status?”

Silence for a moment. Then the audio enunciators in the earpiece crackled to life, just distinguishable to Vae over the noise of the performers, and Devron’s voice came through. “We’re inside. No problems yet. First security door was a little trickier than expected, but everything since has been moderately easier. I don’t think Kuuba expected anyone to get past his security perimeter.”

“And exactly how did you get past his security perimeter?” Vae asked. He heard Devron chuckle on the other end of the transmission.

“With a bit of distractive flair and aggressive persuasion on Teethree’s part. Don’t worry, we hid the guard. They won’t find him until we’re done.”

“I hope so, or this will be a very short conversation. Maligaant is counting on us.”

“I know. I’ll contact you when we’ve reached the main computer room. Devron out.”

Vae sighed and returned to sipping his juice. He’d had a feeling what would happen when Devron had asked to take Teethree with him. That droid was outfitted with a particularly nasty array of tools for the job: a plasma torch for burning through the most stubborn of security doors, shock probes for incapacitating sentients, and a complicated array of computer probes for persuading the most unreasonable computer systems.

Swivelling in his chair and turning his attention now to the rest of the room, Vae surveyed the patrons. The palace played host to a motley crew of alien races: twi’leks, gamorreans, rodians, nikto, the occasional toydarian, devaronians, even one or two reclusive ubese. But dominating the mix most of all were humans which were spread here, there, everywhere within the compound. And most, if not all, were vying for Deevah’s favour and attention. When the performers finished a second routine, they yielded the floor to an obsequious silver-plated protocol droid, vocabulator crackling to life with an unctuous tone.

“The mighty and powerful Deevah the Hutt is now accepting petitions from her patrons.” It said, gesturing with its limited movement to the floor in front of the Hutt. “Present yourselves and state your case.”

There was a sudden flurry of movement as the patrons attempted to form an orderly line in front of Deevah, jostling and shoving each other in their desperation to be seen first, while Deevah was still in an entertaining mood. Picking his way to the middle of the line, Vae patently waited while the number waiting in front of him dwindled. His earpiece hummed, the audio crackling and resolving into Devron’s voice.

“I have the intel, Vae. Transmitting it to your comlink now.” A pause. “Data transmitted. Teethree and I are clearing out now. We’ll meet you on the outskirts of Kuuba’s palace.”

“Excellent work, Devron, and not a moment too soon. I’ll see you at the rendezvous point. Now, I have a Hutt to deal with.”

Finally, it was Vae’s turn. Stepping forward into the dim illumination provided by overhead lights with all eyes on him, Vae bowed, and adopted a flattering tone.

“Mighty Deevah, I come before you on behalf of my friend. An associate of ours enjoyed your renowned hospitality some time ago, before he was taken by force from your luxurious and impressive palace by an unknown Imperial agent.” He paused, allowing the droid to relay his words in Huttese unnecessarily to Deevah - Vae knew fully well that she spoke Basic, but enjoyed keeping her petitioners waiting. Bringing up his com, Vae activated the holoprojector and projected an image of Jarvis, supplied to him by Maligaant. “This man here. He is called Jarvis. We have no quarrel with you Deevah, we merely ask for your assistance in locating him and the Imperial. You see and hear everything on this planet. Please share your knowledge with us.”

The Hutt let out a sonorous, barking laugh that resounded throughout the room as Deevah’s sycophants joined in, elevating the laughter to a mocking cacophony of noise. Then, she barked out several lines of garbled Huttese.

“And what,” relayed the droid, now speaking in Basic, “do you have to offer for this information? Mighty Deevah does not give charitable handouts, Bothan. For the information you seek, you had best hope your offer is tempting, or the mistress will have to summon her akk dogs.”

Vae frowned, adjusting his cloak, reassuring himself that his lightsaber was in fact still hidden within its confines. Not that he fancied his chances: a confined space, so many armed men, too many blaster models to identify, and creatures to contend with too. He thanked the Force for the foresight to send Devron in to Kuuba’s archives.

“I offer this.” Keying a command into the holoprojector, the image revolved and transformed into a projected list of data entries. “Secrets of the Desilijic clan, namely your rival, Kuuba the Hutt.” A sharp intake of breath as interest was renewed in his petition, as even Deevah leans forward with sudden intensity. “Details of racketeering options, their conspirators and contacts, ripe for the taking by a Hutt with intelligence and cunning such as yours, Deevah Besadii Tiron.”

A lengthy pause. Deevah leans toward her Devaronian majordomo, an alien with curving horns, a sly, cunning smirk on his face, and piercing eyes that bowed deferentially to Deevah and listened intently to what she had to say. Then, addressing the droid with a clipped tone, a few short words, the Hutt boomed out another line of Huttese.

“Your offer is… accepted.” The droid said. Vae let out a sigh of relief. “Deevah will provide the location and identity of the Imperial Officer and the current location of the human called Jarvis.”

“Thank you, mighty Deevah, for your generosity and time.” Vae said, then stepped out of line, freeing up the room for the next petition. Gathering his senses, he followed as the Devaronian majordomo gestured, drawing him to a shadowed corner of the room.

-----

“You scratched Teethree.” Vae said from the boarding ramp of the Nomad, the information from Deevah the Hutt safely stored within his com.

“I didn’t, a Nikto guard did.” Devron said, ascending the boarding ramp with the astromech droid hot on his heels. “Don’t worry, Teethree paid him back for it.” Teethree whistled an affirmative, its head spinning joyfully around while the threatening shock probe retracted within the confines of its metal chassis. “I’m guessing the deal went well, seeing as you’re not bantha fodder right now.”

“It did, thanks to you. Job well done, Devron. Now let’s leave this barren dustbowl and contact Maligaant. I’m sure he’ll be pleased with our success.”

 

 (Guest Writer - Vae Ardexa)