Soon, Aruk thought, we will have so many credits that we will be able to wipe them off the face of Nal Hutta, eliminate them as we would any blight on crops or pestilence in our people. Soon, the Besadii will rule Nal Hutta unopposed …
Aruk, and his dead sibling, Zavval, had been the ones who’d thought of setting up colonies on Ylesia, and using religious pilgrims as slave labor to turn raw spice into the finished product. The only thing they’d feared was a slave uprising, and it had been Aruk who’d come up with the idea of the One, the All, and the Exultation to tie it all together.
Most Hutts knew of the t’landa Til ability to project warm, pleasurable emotions and sensations into the minds of most humanoid species. But it had taken Aruk’s quick thinking, his cleverness, to come up with the idea of the Exultation as a mind-numbing “reward” for a day’s hard labor in the spice factories.
Once he’d realized how the t’landa Til ability could be utilized, it had been a simple matter for Aruk to make up some doctrine, compose a few hymns, and write several chants and litanies. And that was all it took to produce a “religion” that credulous fools belonging to inferior species could embrace.
Production in the factories was excellent—had been excellent all along.
Only once, five years ago, had the Ylesian enterprise not turned a tidy profit. That was the year that wretched Corellian, Han Solo, had destroyed the glitterstim factory. And destroyed Zavval, too, though the financial loss was the one Aruk regretted the most. He did not think himself unduly harsh or unsympathetic for caring so little that his sibling had died. No, he was reacting as any true Hutt would.
Aruk studied one item on the Ylesian colony’s project budget. The sum of seventy-five hundred credits to be handed over to the person or persons responsible for Han’s live capture. “No disintegrations” was the primary guideline. “Live capture and delivery.”
Seventy-five hundred credits. A twenty-five-hundred-credit raise since the bounty was first posted. Apparently Solo was proving …
difficult.
Well, this new bounty was certainly large enough to tempt many hunters, though Aruk had seen larger ones. Still, for a man so young, it was a large bounty.
Was it really necessary to pay extra for the “live capture” option?
Aruk had supervised many torture sessions, coolly and efficiently, but unlike many of his people, he took no pleasure in tormenting sentients to gain his own ends. If the Corellian Solo were to be brought before him, Aruk would not bother to torture him before ordering his death.
But Teroenza was a different story. The t’landa Til were vengeful people, and it was obvious to Aruk that the High Priest of Ylesia would not rest until he could personally supervise the long and exceedingly painful death of Han Solo. Moment by moment, scream by scream, groan by groan, Solo would die in the most exquisite agony, while Teroenza savored every second of it.
But did Aruk want to pay extra, just so Teroenza could be satisfied?
Aruk considered. Lines of concentration formed above his bulbous, slit-pupiled eyes. After a moment he released his breath in a short, decisive “houf.”
Very well, he would authorize the payment of the bounty. Let Teroenza look forward to his fun. The anticipation made the High Priest happy, and happy underlings were productive underlings.
Aruk was a bit concerned about Teroenza, actually. The t’landa Til was definitely running the Ylesian operation, no matter how much he and that idiot Kibbick tried to disguise that fact. Aruk frowned. Ylesia was a Hutt operation. It wasn’t proper for anyone other than a Hutt to give the orders there. And yet … Kibbick was the only highranking Hutt in the Besadii clan who was available at the moment to take the Ylesian posting.
And Kibbick, there was no denying it, was a fool.
If only I dared send Durga, Aruk thought. He has the will and the intelligence to rule Ylesia properly, to remind Teroenza of just who his masters are…
Durga was Aruk’s only offspring. He was still a very young Hutt, barely past the age of legal responsibility and true self-awareness; only a hundred standard years old. But he was smart, ten times more intelligent and clever than Kibbick.
When Durga was born, all the other Hutts urged Aruk to roll over on the helpless newborn, smothering him, because of the dark birthmark that spread like a foul liquid from his forehead down over one eye and cheek.
They said that such a marred countenance would make the youngster socially unacceptable, and speculated that he would be feebleminded all his life.
Ancient tales mentioned that such birthmarks were supposed to be omens of disaster, and the elder Hutts predicted all sorts of terrible things should Durga be allowed to survive.