Lucia was certain she would refuse. It sounded too much like a trap. But the Huntress simply sat back in her chair and didn't speak for a very long time. She almost seemed to slip into some type of trance.
Waiting patiently, Lucia did her best to ignore the bloody show playing out in the arena. She didn't approve of killing for sport or pleasure-it seemed pointless and cruel. Despite her refusal to watch, a roar from the tables along the viewing windows told her the match had ended; one of the animals must have dealt a fatal wound to the other. Instinctively, she turned her head to see the result and was greeted with the sight of the terbeast's three heads burrowing into the torn belly of the boarwolf in a race to feast on its organs.
She turned away quickly, struggling to control her rising gorge.
'Tell your mistress I accept her offer,' the Huntress said, reaching out to seize the datapad with the thick, stubby fingers that were common to her species.
Their business done, the assassin turned her attention back to the arena, the hint of a smile playing across her painted lips as she watched.
Disgusted, Lucia stood up and gave a curt nod before turning to go, eager to leave the station as quickly as possible. The Huntress, seemingly enraptured by the gruesome spectacle below, didn't seem to notice her departure.
CHAPTER TEN
Zannah had never actually set foot on Nal Hutta before, but she knew the world well enough by reputation. While the ruling Hutt clans had entirely covered the surface of Nar Shaddaa, the nearby moon, with a sprawling cityscape, Nal Hutta remained largely undeveloped. The planet's predominant natural terrain of marshland had been poisoned by the pollution spewing unchecked from industrial centers scattered across the world, turning the surface into a cesspool of fetid swamps capable of supporting only mutated insect life. The capital city of Bilbousa huddled beneath a perpetual sky of greasy-gray smog punctuated only by dark clouds drizzling acid rain on the stained and pockmarked buildings below.
The physical ugliness of the world was mirrored by its moral corruption. Hutt space had never been a part of the Republic, and the laws of the Senate held no sway here. What few rules there were had been handed down by the powerful Hutt clans that controlled nearby Nar Shaddaa, making Nal Hutta a haven for smugglers, pirates, and slavers.
But protection from Republic law enforcement came with a price. The Hutts considered other species to be inferior, and all resident aliens on both Nar Shaddaa and Nal Hutta had to pay a hefty monthly fee to one of the ruling clans for the privilege of living under their protection. The exact price fluctuated wildly, depending on the rising and falling fortunes of the respective clan, and it wasn't unusual for it to double or even triple without warning. In such cases, those who were unwilling or unable to meet the new price tended to disappear, with all their possessions and assets being claimed by the sponsoring clan, in accordance with Hutt law.
The bias against other species would have made it difficult for Zannah to get the information she needed. The port authorities on Nal Hutta had a deeply ingrained mistrust of outsiders asking questions, and it was unlikely any amount of credits could have convinced them to overlook their prejudices to tell her anything useful. Fortunately for her, however, Bane's network of informants and agents included several high-ranking members of the Desilijic clan, one of the most prominent, and stable, Hutt factions. In the familiar guise of Allia Omek, Zannah was able to use these contacts-along with the ship registration stored in the late Pommat's datapad-to track down the silver-haired man she had followed here from Doan.
She'd learned his real name was Set Harth, and there was a persistent rumor that he had once been a Jedi. She'd also discovered that he was incredibly wealthy. And while nobody she spoke with seemed to know the exact source of his vast fortune, all agreed his gains were almost certainly ill gotten. On Nal Hutta, that was generally seen as something to be admired.
One other interesting fact had also surfaced during her investigations: Set Harth was a fixture on the thriving Nal Hutta social scene. Despite the fact the city was a grimy, greasy pit ruled over by the oppressive clans of Nar Shaddaa-or maybe because of it-the nonHutt residents of Bilbousa were prone to throwing lavish and extravagant parties, each one a celebration of hedonistic excess. Set Harth never failed to receive an invitation to these functions, and he was even known to host them several times a year.
By good fortune he was at one of these galas tonight, giving Zannah an opportunity to break into Set's mansion to try to gain a better understanding of the man who could possibly become her apprentice.
Her first impression was that, in many ways, his mansion resembled the estate Bane had set up on Ciutric IV: it was less a home than a temple of elegance and luxury in which no expense had been spared. A chandelier fashioned from Dalonian crystal dominated the entrance, reflecting the light from Zannah's glow stick with soft turquoise hues. The halls were lined with marble tiles, and several of the rooms Zannah inspected contained Wrodian carpets, each one woven over several generations by a succession of master artisans. The massive dining room could easily seat twenty guests at a table made from crimson greel wood. The desk in Set's study was even more extravagant; she recognized it as the work of the master crafts-beings of Alderaan, hand carved from rare kriin oak.
But the furniture paled when compared with the rare and expensive works of art that accentuated each room. Set had a penchant for bold, striking pieces, and Zannah was almost certain everyone was an original work. She recognized statues carved by Iood Kabbas, the renowned Duros sculptor, landscapes from Unna Lettu, Antar 4's most famous painter, and several portraits that bore the unmistakable style of Fen Teak, the brilliant Muun master.
Clearly, the owner was someone who preferred the finer things in life. Bane's estate on Ciutric was supposed to give the same impression to visitors-all the extravagant art and opulent furniture was part of a facade, key to maintaining the disguise of a successful galactic entrepreneur. In Set's case, however, she wasn't sure the lavish decor was an act. There was a vibrancy here. Things felt real. Alive. The more she looked around, the more Zannah began to believe that the Dark Jedi wasn't just playing a part: his home was a true reflection of his personality. Set obviously enjoyed spending his fortune on material goods; he craved the attention and envy it inspired in others.
The thought gave Zannah pause. Bane had taught her that wealth was only a means to a greater end. Credits were nothing but a tool; amassing a vast fortune was nothing but a necessary step on the path to true power. Materialism-an attachment to physical goods beyond their practical value-was a trap; a chain to ensnare the foolish with their own greed. Apparently Set had yet to learn this lesson.
That is why he needs a Master. He needs someone to teach him the truth about the dark side.
Continuing her tour, Zannah mounted a large spiral staircase leading up to the second floor. Running her hand absently across the fine finish of the railing on the balcony overlooking the sitting room below, she made her way to the rear of the mansion. There she came across Set's library. Hundreds of books lined the walls, but most were novels written purely for entertainment:works she wouldn't consider worthy of reading herself. One shelf did give her hope, however: a collection of technical manuals and guides authored by experts in more than two dozen widely varied fields. Assuming Set had actually read and studied them all, he was a man of broad knowledge and numerous talents.
At the back of the library was a nondescript door; beyond it, Zannah could sense the power of the dark side. It called out to her, like the vibrations of a churning engine thrumming through the floor. Approaching carefully, she felt the power grow. It wasn't coming from any person or creature; she knew the sensation of a living being attuned to the Force. This was different. It reminded her of the invisible pulses of energy she had felt emanating from the Force crystals she had used to construct her lightsaber.
She tested the door and was surprised when it opened easily. Obviously, Set was confident in his privacy-but then, he no doubt had never suspected that a Sith might come to visit. Stepping into the room, she found it small and plain next to the rest of the mansion. There were no works of art, and the only furnishing was a display case set against the back wall a few meters away. By the light of her glow lamp, she could see an array of jewelry carefully arranged in the display case: rings, necklaces, amulets, and even crowns, all imbued with the power of the dark side.
Zannah had seen collections like this before. Ten years ago Hetton, a Force-sensitive Serrenian noble obsessed
