The Adventures of the Crimson Hawk, Part 18

Vader was never so grateful he could no longer smell. Hux arrived at the Prime Minister's office in Nabarrie Palace dripping with potato peelings, carrot tops, squashed raspberries, and the blackened remains of a burned pork dinner. “General,” he hissed, “when you are in the Prime Minister's presence, you should at least wash your face and be wearing a clean and pressed uniform.”

“There wasn't time!” Hux's face was almost as red as his hair. “That blasted Rebel Society managed to break out Senator Mothma and Grand Duchess Organa! I tried to stop them, but twenty of them ganged up on me. I was lucky that big lug of a native didn't flatten my head.”

There was a smirk in Vader's raspy voice. “I would have.”

“Enough, gentlemen.” Palpatine arrived, flanked by two of his red-clad personal guards, who stood attention outside. “General, I heard what happened at Theed Town. Those rebels made complete fools of you.” He wrinkled his aristocratic nose. “They also made a compost heap of you.”

“Sir, I had no choice!” Hux was turning redder by the minute. “I was attacked by fifty of them!”

Vader's rasp was now amused. “I thought you said twenty.” He lifted his hand. The General grabbed at his throat, his face rapidly switching from red to purple. “Which was it?”

“Vader, release him.” The slender military man caught his breath as his boss leaned back in his chair. “I'm going to give both of you one more chance. The Diamond Jubilee Gala Ball and coronation are in two weeks. This will also be the official launching of the Second Death Star Airship. Vader, you will be in charge of the security that night. The coronation will begin traditionally at the Palace and end on the Death Star, as a way to show our court what it's truly capable of.”

“What...about...me?” Hux clutched the desk as he caught his breath.

“You will go to the Endor Woods, on the borders of Bespin and Naboo, and oversee the Khyber Crystal mines.” The silver-haired ruler steepled his thin fingers. “I've heard rumors of a possible uprising there.”

“Endor?” Hux managed to grind out. “But you know what the natives are like! They're savages, even more than the Wookies!”

“They're also some of the smallest people in the Alliance,” his boss reminded him, “the only ones small enough to crawl through the narrower mines. However, I don't want them getting ideas about fighting back. I want you to make sure this doesn't happen.”

Hux's face tightened, but he still turned to his ruler and saluted him. “Very well, Prime Minister, sir. I'll leave in the morning.”

Palpatine shook his head. “You'll leave as soon as you've changed and taken a bath.” He waved his hand. “You are dismissed, General. Don't fail me again, or your punishment will be far more severe than anything Baron Vader is able to imagine.”

Vader moved his green monocle eye to his master as Hux stormed out. “I don't trust that man. I suspect he may be plotting our demise.”

“I also suspect him. He's ambitious, that boy, and clever. Pity he didn't pick up some common sense in the Arkansis Military Academy to go with those brains.” He nodded at the sprawling map of Naboo and the Alliance countries that took up almost the entire wall behind him. “That's why I sent him to Endor. I am concerned about an uprising there, but I'm even more worried about what that foul little mind of his is concocting.” He gave Vader a thin smile. “I think your son would be a more than adequate replacement. He's intelligent, strong-willed, and very much like his father.”

“If I can find him.” Vader's hiss lowered. “I felt him in Lothal earlier, but he's not there now. My men are scouring every hospital from here to Yavin that offers limb replacement.”

“What about the Tatoonie Islands?” Palpatine pointed at a series of dots to the right side of the map. “It's infested with criminals, murderers, gangsters, and down-on-their-luck farmers and thieves. It would be a perfect place for your son to hide.”

Vader stiffened noticeably. “I am not going to Tatoonie. I...dislike sand. It gets into my gears and clogs my breathing apparatus.”

“You always were a damn child about it.” His chair swirled back around, revealing a more serious expression. “Very well. In that case, perhaps he will come to you.”

“He will come to me, Master?”

“I can feel his doubt, same as you can. He wants to reconcile with you. He will come.” Palpatine's grin was wide and white, more like a shark's. “And when we get him, that will be the end of the so-called League of the Crimson Hawk and its insignificant rebellion.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Jenkins' Casino was an extravagant hodge-podge jutting almost obnoxiously on the edge of the warm golden Tatoonie sands like it owned them. Every room was positioned to to take advantage of the stunning view and hot Mediterranean sun. The casino was a mass of Baroque curls, Gothic cathedrals, Victorian frills and curves, and neo-classical columns and perfect lines. It had been built more than a hundred years before, and every owner had added a new wing in a different style since.

The newest, most indulgent, and most popular wing was Jenkins' addition. The casino floors, with their glittering, golden mirrors, thick deep red carpets, and rainbow-colored murals depicting the Huttman family through the years (in the most flattering terms, of course) was a sea of people enjoying every ill-gotten pleasure there was to be found. Fortunes were won and lost at the gambling tables, while nightclub dancers in scanty costumes danced the scandalous can-can and hoochy-coochie. More often than not, they'd take a few men – and even women – upstairs afterwards to attend to their every need.

But the most outrageous – and secret – of all the additions at Jenkins' was his private domain on the top floor. Here, Jenkins himself held court while friends, family, couriers, hangers-on, bounty hunters, and other sordid underworld criminals. He was a grossly obese man, so massive he couldn't stand without considerable aid. His glistening bald head and rolls of fat and wrinkles made him more closely resemble a slug than a human. He reclined on a throne made from solid gold upholstered in fine red velvet, stolen from a pirating raid off the coast of Spain. Wheels had been added to the bottom to allow him to move around.

Cedric had never been so nervous. “How did we get into this mess, Rusty?” He groaned, even as his friend stood on his tip-toes to straighten his cravat. “We seem to be made to suffer. It's our lot in life. Why did I ever agree to this? I should be helping Senator Mothma write important documents, not playing spy.”

“Oh, shut up. You're a bigger baby n' Jenkins.” Rusty stood back. “You look...like you blend into the walls. Couldn't you have picked a different color than yellow?”

“I look good in yellow.” Cedric sniffed. “You're just jealous. You're stuck in a uniform. You can't even dress up nicely.”

“This is nicer n' the overalls I usually wear.” Rusty did the last button on his stiff white coat and adjusted the cloth on his arm. “I don't need to look like one of the patrons, anyway. I'm supposed to look like a waiter.”

One of the dancers popped her head in the servants' lounge. “Are you two coming, or what? Charles told me Ahsoka will be around shortly with the other two. Charles told me Henry was in the holding cells in the basement, but they've moved him since then. No one knows where. It's heavily guarded.”

Cedric's wide gold eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Your Grace!” He gasped as Leia stepped in. “What would your aunt say if she saw you in such a revealing frock?”

“What she doesn't know won't hurt her.” Leia's brick red and gold gown was much shorter than her day dresses, falling in a poof of ruffles to just below her knees. The fluffy sleeves were edged with thick gold trim and sparkling red crystals. Black tights and red pumps with gold bows on the toes accentuated her shapely legs. A velvet bonnet tied around her head with a chocolate brown satin bow dripped with brown, brick, and gold feathers. A flurry of red and gold petticoats swirled around her as she moved.

Rusty whistled. “That's some get-up they got ya in, Your Grace. You look damn good.”

“Thanks. If you think this is short, you should see the beaded dresses we're wearing for the hoochy-coochie.” Leia pulled up her bosom, trying to get it to sit right. “Let's go. The next floor show will be starting in two minutes.”

Leia hurried out with her fellow can-can dancers just in time for the number to start. She both admired and pitied these women. While a few of them were genuinely hoping this job would be the stepping stone to a dance troupe or at least a better company, most were uneducated women who were simply trying to get by the best way they could. She couldn't help noticing as they kicked and cartwheeled around the floor that Jenkins' eyes never left her.

“I think he likes you,” whispered one especially tall, slender woman with flaming red hair. “Jenkins is looking for a new favorite mistress. Oola Twylar was his last favorite, but she got into a big argument with him, and he sent her to the water chambers to be...eliminated.”

Leia tried not to wince as she did her high kicks. “Water chamber?”

The red-head nodded. “I heard Jenkins keeps some kind of sea monster down there, and it feeds on those who displease him. Probably not. Might just be a really angry octopus.”

“But they don't...” Another girl shushed Leia, who returned to trying to concentrate on the routine. As they came to their big finale, all legs and skirts in the air, she noticed three familiar figures winding their way through the crowds. Ahsoka and Jyn wore elaborate gowns trimmed with lace and tulle, Jyn in beige, Ahsoka in blue. Cassian went for a simple navy tuxedo and silk cravat. He and Ahsoka interviewed patrons, while Jyn shoved past patrons, jabbing them with an elbow or her frill-laden parasol.

As Leia started to push through the crowd, shoving people aside with her own parasol, a greasy hand yanked her over to the golden throne. “Hello, my pretty pet,” Jenkins purred. “What a dainty morsel you are. I think I'd just love to eat you all up. You're so succulent...so tender...”

She managed to shove his arm off. “Are you talking about me, or your next meal?”

“Charming, too.” His juicy lips slobbered over her knuckles. The duchess was very glad she wore gloves. “You'll be eating dinner with me tonight, pretty pet. We'll start with a roast foie de gras, and then...”

“I'm sorry,” Leia began, “but I have a previous engagement.”

“Break it.” Two of his men shoved her into his lap. “I like pretty things. I like to keep them and play with them in my bedroom. I like to eat with them.” His sausage fingers wound through her long braid. “Pretty things do not say no to Jenkins. I could get you a spot at the Follies Bergiere, if you play your cards right.”

Jenkins' attempt at a kiss was drowned out by his howl. Leia jumped up from his lap as fast as her legs could allow her. “Try anything like that again, fat man, and you'll find out where you can take your Follies Bergiere!”

The obese criminal slammed his fist on the arm of his chair. “Enough of all these games! Where's Solo? Have the sculptors finished with him yet, Fettson?”

“Ten minutes ago.” The tall bounty hunter in the green suit perched behind the throne like a menacing green and red bird of prey. “He should be ready to be presented now.”

“Then bring him up here! I need to hurt somebody!” The sausage fingers around around Leia's arm. “Stick around, pretty pet. You'll see what happens to people who defy Jenkins Huttman. It's not nearly as sweet as you are.”

The crowds moved aside for Huttman's private guard, dressed in the same khaki, tan, and olive uniforms of the Tatoonie Islands army. The one in the custom-made pith helmet with the expensive ribbon trim got as close to Leia as he dared. He gently took her arm and pulled her from Jenkins before he could try to get more intimate with her. The other guards all moved to a segment of the back wall, which was blocked by a gold velvet rope.

Jenkins' right-hand man, Bibbi Fortuna, stood on the dais next to his boss' throne. The moment he waved his hands, the orchestra quieted. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he smirked, “well, some of you, of Tatoonie. I give you tonight's entertainment. You've just seen the most beautiful dancers in the Five Islands. Now, witness the creation of the island's finest living statue!”

As the wall behind them slowly turned, Leia let out a shocked gasp. Henry stood on a marble pedestal, limbs arranged in an artful pose designed to show off his athletic physique. He was clad in loose short trousers...and little else. Rock crystal fetters and a jeweled collar anchored him to the base. His entire body was coated with a glistening layer of sparkling translucent crystal that made him resemble a perfectly carved ice sculpture, save for three holes around his mouth and nose that allowed him to breathe.

“Behold, my latest acquisition.” Fortuna wheeled his boss over to the crystal statue as Cedric translated to the crowd. “I call it 'Bastard Under Crystal.' He's a better-looking decoration than he was pirate.” His flunky helped him stand, so he could laugh up at Henry's face. “You thought you were so clever, Solo, running away. You're not as clever as my boys. I'm glad Vader gave me this melted Khyber crystal. It suits you.” He jabbed a cigar at Henry's foot, hard enough for him to feel the burn even under the crystal. “This decoration,” Jenkins sneered to the crowd, “is meant as a lesson. No one should ever made a late payment to Jenkins Huttman. It...displeases him.”

“No!” Leia rushed over when Jenkins rolled behind the fountain pressed the cigar harder into his back. “Don't hurt him!” Henry's glazed eyes manged to roll downwards. He knew those angry brown eyes, that voice...

“I'll let him alone, pretty pet,” the gangster smirked, “if you'll have dinner with me tonight.”

Leia's mouth felt dry. “I'll do it. I'll eat with you.” Henry's lips turned down, his clouded eyes despondent.

“Of course you will.” Jenkins pressed his cigar against his thigh so hard, it left a small hairline crack in the crystal. “We'll meet in my room in a half-hour. You'll wear...something I can take off easily.” He finally kissed her hand again before letting Bibbi wheel him over to a group of men in olive green and tan security uniforms.

“Your Grace, I simply won't allow this!” Cedric pulled her aside as she wiped her hand on the side of her dress. “The things I've heard Huttman does with his lady friends would shock even the most depraved criminal.”

“Don't worry, Cedric. I have a plan.” She pushed him towards Rusty, who was serving drinks to two members of Huttman's entourage. “Go tell Rusty I'm going to need him and Charles to set up dinner...with two special drinks from an own Aldra recipe.” Her grin was so nasty, Cedric began to wonder if he should worry for Mr. Huttman's well-being. “One will have an....added ingredient.”