Oola: Beneath Jabba's Gaze by Jade Gretz

https://www.deviantart.com/jadegretzai/art/Oola-Beneath-Jabba-s-Gaze-1050640230

The twin suns of Tatooine had set, leaving Jabba’s palace bathed in darkness, save for the occasional flicker of torches. Inside the walls, the palace was anything but still. The ceaseless party raged in the grand hall, with smugglers, criminals, and bounty hunters of all species drinking, feasting, and gambling. In the midst of it all, dancing gracefully yet with an air of quiet unease, was Oola.

The Twi'lek slave twirled, her emerald green skin shimmering in the torchlight, her lekku swaying with every movement. Her dance was seductive, but her heart wasn't in it tonight. She had long since mastered the art of hiding her true feelings beneath a mask of allure, but lately, something had shifted inside her. A growing sense of dread, like a slow-burning fire, gnawed at her every waking moment. It wasn't just the looming shadow of Jabba the Hutt that weighed on her—it was something more sinister, something ancient and dark that lingered within the walls of the palace.

Oola had lived as a slave in Jabba's palace for years, enduring his lecherous gaze and the leering eyes of his henchmen. But tonight, as her bare feet swept across the stone floor, the air felt different. Her every step felt heavier, her breath shallow. The dim light made the hall seem larger, its shadows reaching further than they should. Oola was no stranger to fear, but this was something deeper, more primal.

She glanced toward the throne where Jabba reclined, his grotesque body lounging in the center of his domain. Surrounding him were his closest allies and guards—Bib Fortuna, the ever-scheming majordomo, and a host of bounty hunters and thugs. Among them, Oola caught sight of a familiar face, one she hadn’t seen in some time—Boushh, the bounty hunter, clad in his signature armor. He had been part of a recent mission that involved disrupting Jabba’s shipment routes, a secret operation Oola had covertly aided from the inside.

Her heart skipped a beat. Did Jabba know? Was he suspicious?

The palace had long been a cesspool of treachery, but Oola had been careful. She had spent months funneling information to Boushh and a few select bounty hunters, hoping to undermine Jabba’s criminal empire piece by piece. She didn’t do it for freedom, nor for money. She did it for vengeance. Jabba had taken everything from her—her home, her people, her dignity. Helping to dismantle his empire was the only way she could keep her spirit alive in this place.

But tonight, something felt wrong. The whispers in the air were colder, and the shadows seemed to move on their own.

As her dance ended, the crowd cheered and Jabba’s booming laugh echoed through the hall, but Oola barely noticed. Her eyes darted to the shadows creeping along the far edges of the room. She had heard the stories—whispers from other slaves, murmurs from the guards—about the ancient spirits that haunted Jabba’s palace. It was built atop old, sacred grounds, a place that once belonged to a long-forgotten order. But the Hutt, in his arrogance, had desecrated it, turning it into a den of vice.

Oola had never believed in such tales—until now.

Her pulse quickened as she caught a glimpse of something, a flicker in the shadows. She squinted, trying to focus on the dark corner near one of the crumbling stone pillars. For just a moment, she thought she saw a face, pale and twisted, watching her with hollow eyes. She gasped and stepped back, colliding with one of Jabba’s guards. The Gamorrean snorted in irritation but paid her little mind.

Heart racing, Oola hurried from the main hall, slipping through the side corridors where the noise of the feast faded into muffled chaos. She needed to find Boushh. She needed to know if he felt it too—this strange, unsettling presence. The deeper she ventured into the palace, the darker it became. The cold, stone walls seemed to close in on her, and the distant sounds of revelry became little more than whispers.

Turning a corner, she nearly collided with a figure in the shadows. Her breath caught in her throat until she realized who it was.

"Boushh," she whispered, relieved. The bounty hunter’s masked face turned toward her, the glow from his helmet’s visor casting eerie shadows across the narrow hall. "Something’s wrong. I can feel it."

Boushh didn’t speak, but his posture was tense, alert. He nodded slowly, as if he understood. They had worked together long enough to know that when Oola had a bad feeling, it was usually right.

"Did Jabba find out?" Oola as
...(more at https://www.deviantart.com/jadegretzai).
For more supergirl, chun li, batgirl, tifa, lara croft, wonder woman, rogue and much more, please visit my page at www.deviantart.com/jadegretzai - Thanks for your support :)