[Han Solo] - 03(52)
“Upgrading all of the sublight and hyperdrive engines on our ships has set us back fifty-five thousand credits.”
“That seems a bit excessive,” Jiliac said. “Was upgrading all our ships really necessary?”
Jabba sighed so loudly and exasperatedly that flecks of green drool spattered on the floor before him. “Shug Ninx is a rarity among Nar Shaddaa denizens, Aunt. The price is fair. And, if you’ll recall, we lost three smuggling ships to Imperial patrols over the last six months, and another to privateers. Our ships sublight engines were old and outmoded, and they couldn’t elude Imperial tariff ships or pirates. And their hyperdrives were so slow that we were getting complaints from customers about their deliveries being delayed! So, yes, the upgrades were completely necessary, to avoid losing more ships.”
“Oh, yes, I do recall that now,” Jiliac said, vaguely. “Well, if it is necessary, Nephew, it is necessary. I trust your judgment.”
My judgment is that I should be running things around here in name as well as fact, Jabba thought, grumpily. Aloud he said, “At least the job is done. With any luck, our ships can now haul more spice, faster, and we can begin making back some of our investment. If only Besadii will hold the line this time on its new announced prices for processed spice. This is their third increase in three months.”
Jiliac began to laugh, a great, booming sound that echoed in the huge, nearly deserted office. (Ever since she’d had her baby, the leader of Desilijic had dismissed many of her former hangerson and sycophants, for fear one of them would seek profit by kidnapping her baby and holding it for ransom. These days her opulent throne room held only her most trusted minions, compared to the way it used to be, when Jiliac was a male, childless Hutt. Jabba, of course, still enjoyed being surrounded by raucous crowds, music and dancing girls in his palaces on Nal Hutta and Tatooine.) When Jiliac stopped laughing she exclaimed, “Nephew, of course Besadii will not hold their line! Their strategy lately has been to reduce the amount of spice on the black market, to drive prices up. Simple economics. Highly effective, also.”
“I know,” Jabba agreed, morosely. “But they have to slither a fine line, Aunt. If they charge much more, they’ll be competing with the Imperial spice market. And that might bring them to the unwelcome attention of the Emperor.”
By Imperial decree, all spice, especially the ultra-valuable glitterstim, belonged to the Empire. But the prices for the spice sold through legal, Imperial channels was so preposterously high that no one except the fabulously wealthy could afford it. Enter the smugglers and their side deals on Kessel and the other spice-producing worlds.
“We had little choice but to upgrade our ships, Aunt,” Jabba added.
“Our markets were making threats that they were going to begin dealing directly with Besadii.” “Besadii does not have a smuggling fleet that can match ours,” Jiliac pointed out, truthfully.
“Not at the moment,” Jabba said. “But my sources indicate that Durga has already bought a few ships, and is bargaining for others. He has announced his intention of creating a fleet that will outclass ours. I believe he intends to take over the whole spice trade. We must not allow this, Aunt.”
“I agree, Nephew,” Jiliac said, waving an aqua streamer. “What shall we do about it?”
“I believe we must redouble our efforts to get more pilots to run our spice, Aunt,” Jabba said. “There must be pilots out there who are as good as Solo.”
“Is he gone?” she asked, vaguely, stroking her baby’s head.
Jabba rolled his bulbous eyes and reached into a bowl for a Carnovian eel-pup, and popped the squirming, squeaking morsel into his mouth.
The baby Hutt looked over at him and drooled greenishbrown goo. Jabba hastily averted his gaze and swallowed noisily. “Solo has been gone for several months, Aunt. By all report, he went to the Corporate Sector. His loss is being felt,” he waved his datapad. “Solo was the best. I even find myself missing the fellow.”
Jiliac turned to regard her nephew in surprise. “Jabba, you are talking about a human. And a human male at that. Have your tastes changed? I thought you had a penchant for those tiresome scantily clad dancers you fancy. It is hard for me to picture Solo in a dancing costume, cavorting with that great hairy brute of a Wookiee before your throne.”
Jabba chuckled at the image. “Ho-ho, Aunt! No, my fondness for Solo comes only from the fact that he makes us money, in an expeditious fashion. He would never allow himself to be boarded and his cargo and ship impounded for smuggling. Solo is quite clever and resourceful .