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[Han Solo] - 03(88)

By:A C Crispin


Jiliac’s Nar Shaddaa majordomo, a human woman named Dielo, looked up when he walked in, and smiled welcomingly. “Captain Solo! Welcome back! Jabba instructed me to bring you in immediately.”

Since Han was used to being kept waiting when he visited Jabba, this was indeed encouraging news.

When Han walked into the huge, bare, audience chamber, he found Jabba alone. The Hutt lord undulated toward him, his stubby arms spread wide.

“Han, my boy! It’s wonderful to see you! You were gone too long!”

For an awful second, Han thought that Jabba actually intended to hug him.

The Corellian stepped back hastily, trying not to wrinkle his nose.

He’d have to get used to the smell of Hutts all over again ….

“Hey, Jabba, Your Excellency,” he said. “Nice to know I’ve been missed.”

“None of that ‘Your Excellency,’ now, Han!” Jabba boomed, speaking, as usual, in Huttese, which he knew Han understood well. “We’re old friends, and no formalities are needed!”

The Desilijic lord was practically oozing camaraderie. Han smothered a smile. Business must be hurting, he thought. Nothing like being needed, I guess ….

“Sure, Jabba,” Han said. “So, how’s business?”

“Business… business has been a bit.., slow,” Jabba said. “Besadii, curse them, is trying to build up a shipping fleet of their own to challenge Desilijic’s business. And the Imperials have been, unfortunately, all too active lately. Between the Imperial customs ships and the pirates, the spice business is suffering.”

“Besadii’s being their typical pain in the butt, eh?”

Jabba’s chuckle boomed Out in response to Han’s witticism, but, even to Han’s ears, the laughter sounded a bit hollow. “Han, Besadii must be dealt with. I am not sure exactly how.”

Han gazed at the Hutt lord. “I heard the Corellian Resistance wanted Desilijic to back ‘em in a raid on Ylesia.”

Jabba didn’t seem surprised that Han had his own sources for information.

The massive head nodded. “We were approached by an acquaintance of yours .

. . Bria Tharen.”

“I haven’t seen her in ten years,” Han said. “I understand she’s a Rebel leader now.”

“She is,” Jabba affirmed. “And I was very interested in her proposition.

However, since my aunt refused to back the Corellian resistance, I am looking for alternatives to bring down Besadii. We must do something.

They are stockpiling the best spice, holding it back to drive up prices. Our sources indicate that their warehouses are crammed, and they are building new ones to hold the overflow.”

Han shook his head. “That ain’t good. And Jiliac? How’s she doin’?

And the baby?”

Jabba grimaced. “My aunt is well. Her baby is healthy.”

“Why the sour expression, then?” Han asked.

“Her attention to motherhood is admirable, I suppose, Han,” Jabba said, “but it has meant a greatly increased workload for me. My business interests on Tatooine are being neglected, and it is difficult to keep up with all of Desilijic’s concerns.” The Hutt lord sighed. “Han, it is getting harder and harder these days to find the time to get everything done.”

“Yeah, I know what that’s like, Jabba,” Han said. He shifted restlessly from foot to foot.

The Hutt, who was in an unusually perceptive mood, noticed the Corellian’s restiveness. “What is it, Han?”

Han shrugged. “I’m okay. Sometimes I wish you had a human-style chair in this audience chamber, though. Having a conversation standing up the whole time is hard on my feet.” He hesitated. “Mind if I just park my rear on the floor while we chat?”

“Ho-ho!” Jabba chuckled. “I have often thought that feet must be inconvenient things to depend on, Han my boy. I can do better than the floor. “Turning with far more flexibility than Han would have given him credit for, Jabba curled his tail forward and patted it invitingly.

“Here.

Sit, lad.”

Han, recognizing that Jabba was doing him a great honor, silently told his protesting nose to shut up. He walked over and sat down on the Hutt’s tail just as he would have a tree trunk. He smiled, though the reek was awful, this close. “My feet thank you, Jabba,” he said.

The Hutt’s laughter at such close quarters was enough to rattle Han’s eardrums. “Ho-ho-ho! Han, you amuse me almost as much as one of my dancing girls.”

“Thanks,” Han managed, wondering how soon he could decently get up and leave. Jabba was curled around so he could speak to Han nearly face-to-face.