The race had started.
“Tell me - now!” roared Jabba. “You said you came to me for knowledge? You must show that you yourself possess it! Who will be the winner?”
Boba stared at the crime lord.
He will not give it; you must take it.
And suddenly, he knew the right answer.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Well?” demanded Jabba.
Fearlessly, Boba looked at him. “0 wisest of Hutts! The winner will be - whoever you want it to be!”
Inside the dome everything abruptly grew silent, except for the muted viewscreen. From outside, Boba could hear a wave of sound, shouts, and cheers echoing from the arena. There was the muffled explosion of a blaster. On his raised throne, Jabba stared down at Boba Fett. Very slowly he raised his flabby arms. His eyes narrowed. His entire vast body began to shake. His long, fat tail rippled and coiled like a dying slug.
Jabba the Hutt was laughing.
“HO HO!” The entire dome shook as he bellowed and roared. “Well said, young warrior!” He grabbed another fistful of worms and crammed them into his mouth, without ceasing to speak. “A clever answer! And a true one!”
Inside his helmet, Boba sighed with relief. “Thank you, 0 Great and Wise Hutt,” he said.
He tipped his head respectfully. It was a good thing
Jabba couldn’t see his face! “I am overwhelmed.” Overwhelmed with disgust, Boba added to himself. “Estral!” boomed Jabba. His flailing arm beckoned to the Etti gamemaster. “Collect their credits!
We’re leaving!”
Boba looked around, confused.
“But the race isn’t over,” he blurted.
Once more Jabba heaved with laughter. “I know who will win. I have more important business to attend to.”
He leaned forward, staring intently at Boba. “Young Mandalorian! You said you were sent by Jango Fett.”
Boba nodded. “That’s right.”
“So you, too, are a bounty hunter?”
Boba’s voice was loud and clear. “Yes. I am.”
“That is good. I am always in need of bounty hunters - even small ones. You will come with me to my palace. My majordomo, Bib Fortuna, will arrange for you to be outfitted there. Until you have discharged your debt to me, you will be under my command.”
“My debt to you?” Boba said. He couldn’t keep outrage from his voice. “What do I owe you for?”
Immediately he felt the hot breath of the Drovian guard upon his neck.
“You will die for that,” the Drovian grunted.
He drew a curved litch-knife from his belt and held it just inches from Boba’s face.
“And,” the Drovian added with a twisted smile, “you will die slowly.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Boba had no time to think. He acted.
Without a sound he leaped to one side. The Drovian’s knife whistled harmlessly through the air where, a nanosecond before, Boba had been.
“Huh?” gaped the hulking alien.
A small table stood near the viewscreen. Boba grabbed the table and swung it in front of him, fending off the Drovian’s blade. Jabba’s guests yelled and scattered in all directions. Jabba himself watched, laughing coarsely.
“You will pay for this!” croaked the Drovian.
As the guard bore down on him, Boba thrust the table upward. The knife stuck in the wood surface. While the Drovian struggled to free his weapon, Boba pushed the table up farther. Then he darted sideways, kicking at the lumbering guard’s knees. With a groaning thud, the Drovian stumbled and fell. Jabba’s guests laughed as Boba turned to breathlessly face Jabba.
“I am no one’s slave or servant!” Boba said. “I will work for you, for a price - but I will name that price!”
Jabba’s laughter stilled. He gazed at Boba. After a moment he nodded. “You are my kind of scum! You will make a good hunter.”
The protection of his helmet made Boba feel bold. “Who’s to say I’m not one already?”
Jabba smiled slyly. “Soon you will have the chance to prove it. I have a job that needs to be executed. I have already contacted another hunter, but perhaps the assignment should be yours.”
Jabba turned and gave a disdainful glance at the Drovian. “Bring him back to the palace,” he ordered his guards. “Once we have arrived, put him in the holding pen.”
The Drovian roared and fought furiously as the Gamorreans grabbed him and led him away.
Boba watched them go. He had never imagined it would be possible to feel pity for a Drovian. Still, the thought of Jabba’s pit beasts made him hope that the gangster might change his mind.
“Estral!” boomed Jabba. “I have commanded Bib Fortuna to ready the sail barge for our departure. We leave immediately. Ensure that this dome is dismantled. And see that our new recruit is not left behind.”