Star Wars - Kenobi
that the door to his office was open. He’d likely gone for his blaster. Behind the counter, Jabe had pulled the pistol from the cashbox. Annileen waved him off. If she didn’t want Jabe hunting Tuskens, she surely didn’t want him killed in a shootout with … what? Whatever these people were.
“I’m Bojo Boopa,” the Gossam said, surveying Annileen. “But you will call me Master Boopa.”
“Not if you don’t want me to laugh.” Annileen looked to her left. Ben was standing casually at a clothing rack, trying to pay the visitors no mind. But she saw his eyes dart between her and Jabe in a way she found reassuring.
The Gamorreans thundered forward, bumping against shelves. Items clattered to the floor.
“Hey!” Annileen stepped up—only to freeze as one of the titans growled. The other balled his fist and punched a display, knocking packages all across the aisle. At the bar, Jabe began to move.
“There’s no need for trouble,” Ben said, interposing his body between the Gamorreans and Annileen.
Boopa leered at him and returned the flask inside his coat in a move that displayed his blasters to the watchful customers. “What are you supposed to be? A hero?”
“Not at all,” Ben said, kneeling. “I’m the janitor.” He began picking up the fallen containers and placing them back on their shelves.
Orrin stepped out from his office in the back. “I’m Orrin Gault,” he said, his earlier smile gone. He approached Boopa, eyeing him coolly. “Can we get you something?”
“Hardly.” The Gossam sniffed disdainfully as his neck craned. Seeing the room Orrin had emerged from, he pointed. “Is that where you do business, Orry?”
“Some of the time.”
“Well, let’s go.” Twirling his cane, Boopa trotted down the aisle toward the office.
Orrin gave a look to Annileen—and half a glance to Ben—before turning to follow. “This’ll be just a minute,” he told them. The door closed.
Orrin, you’ve lied to me, Annileen thought. It wasn’t just a minute. It had been closer to fifteen, each one spent in alternating anxiety and annoyance.
Anxiety over what was happening inside the office. The newcomers weren’t moisture farmers, to be sure. Orrin had dealt with shady folks before; one almost had to in running a ranch the size of his. Some supplier somewhere was always under the massive thumb of a Hutt. And she’d known Orrin to deal with merchants now and again whose property might not have been legally obtained. But that was about cutting corners. This seemed like something else again.
“Do you think the Devaronians sent them for revenge after their partner died?” she had whispered to Ben.
“I’ve never known hoteliers to be a vengeful lot,” he’d responded.
She’d shooed Kallie and Leelee outside. Several of the customers had left at the sight—and occasional gaseous sound and smell—of the Gamorreans, but some of her regulars of sterner stuff remained, keeping a watchful eye from their tables. Jabe had refused to leave, taking station at the gun counter. If Ulbreck could hold out against a Tusken mob from there, Annileen thought, Jabe should be reasonably safe. She noticed that the old farmer himself had departed, perhaps deciding his adventure the day before was story enough for one week.
And there was Ben, sorting idly through blankets and evaluating spanners. His eyes casually shifted to the Gamorreans and the closed office door. He was curious, to be sure—but not nearly as anxious as Annileen, and his presence had made her feel calmer.
Calm enough that she could feel annoyed. If the Gamorreans had ever been to a store before, Annileen couldn’t tell. They grabbed whatever they wanted from the shelves, as if it were their own private pantry. They were making a mess, but as long as they were stuffing their faces, they weren’t breaking things—or people.
“That’s not good,” Ben whispered as he passed her.
“The store’s survived Tuskens. It can handle this.”
“No, I mean the shorter one just ate a handful of metal bolts. He’ll regret that.”
Annileen had swept her fifth aisle in the Gamorreans’ wake when the office door opened. She strained to hear Boopa’s words.
“—not gonna work, Gault. You may be a big man here,” the Gossam said, emerging. “But this little kingdom of yours is a dust mote in the boss’s eye.”
Orrin stepped out and put his hands on his hips. “Well, you can tell your boss—or anyone who wants to know.
Weitere Kostenlose Bücher