THE HUTT GAMBI(28)

But Aruk had looked down at his tiny, squirming offspring and sensed that his child would grow up to be a worthy Hutt, intelligent, cunning, and, when necessary, ruthless. So he had taken young Durga up into his arms and solemnly pronounced that here was his offspring and heir, and warned the nay-sayers to be silent.

Aruk had seen to it that Durga was well educated, and had everything a growing Hutt could want. The young Hutt responded to his parent’s interest, and the bond between the two had become very close.

Staring down at the graphs showing the Ylesian finances, Aruk made a mental note to share his findings with Durga later that day. He was grooming his offspring to take on the leadership of the clan after his own passing.

These figures are so encouraging; Aruk thought, that we should put some of this profit into founding yet another colony on Ylesia. Seven colonies can produce much more processed spice than six. And we can increase our missionary force by recruiting more t’landa Til males and sending them out to lure in more pilgrims.”

Aruk’s greatest dream was to someday expand their spice processing and slaving operation to a second world in the Ylesian system. He knew he probably wouldn’t live to see two worlds producing at full capacity, but Durga definitely would.

There was only one problem, and that was Desilijic. Aruk knew that Jiliac and Jabba watched every move he and his highranking clan members made, and they were ready to pounce at the slightest sign of weakness. They were ruthless, the Desilijic, and they were jealous of the Besadii clan and their success on Ylesia. Aruk knew only too well how much Jabba and Jiliac would give to destroy them all and take over the Ylesian operation.

Still, it was but a sign of the Besadii clan’s extraordinary success and accomplishment that they be so envied. Hutt life was full of move and countermove. That was the way of it, and frankly, Aruk thrived on the intrigue, the danger. He wouldn’t have changed things if he could have.

With a sigh of contentment, Aruk the Hutt turned off his datapad and stretched, rubbing his bulbous eyes. Ahhhhh … a good afternoon’s work.

Time for dinner, and a chance to spend time with his offspring. How pleasant that he had such good news to impart!

Guiding his repulsor sled with minuscule touches from his thick fingers, Aruk glided from the room, in search of food and companionship …





4


Upping the Ante


Five months and six bounty hunters later, Han and Chewbacca had settled down into life on Nar Shaddaa. Han found them a little apartment in the Corellian sector, a megablock or so from Mako’s place, and only one level below it. The little flat was set up like a small suite, with two tiny bedrooms with foldout beds, a minuscule kitchen/living area, and refresher unit. But they didn’t spend much time at home. As soon as Mako had introduced Han to his associates, the young Corellian found steady work.

Good pilots were always valued on Nar Shaddaa.

During his first month, Han filled in as a shift pilot on the Nar Shaddaa to Nal Hutta shuttle, ferrying Hutts and their underlings back and forth from the Smuggler’s Moon to the Hutt homeworld. Han had hoped to meet either Jabba or Jiliac that way, but the two top Hutt Lords of the Desilijic clan had their own private shuttles and didn’t need to take public ones. Han hung on to the referral Tagta had given him, but decided he’d better learn his way around before he applied for jobs piloting for the Hutts. They were tough masters to please.

Just about the time Han’s temporary job ended, the young Corellian went out with Mako on several runs, hauling loads of spice from the Twi’lek homeworld, Ryloth, to a staging area on Roon. There Han met up with an old acquaintance of Mako’s, a craggy-faced, aging smuggler named Zeen A-fit.

Zeen was heading off to Smuggler’s Run with a shipment of food, and when he mentioned that he’d like company, Han and Chewbacca offered to ride along.

Smuggler’s Run was a hideout for sentients on the lam who were even “hotter” than the denizens of Nar Shaddaa. Smuggler’s Run was a series of hideouts—actually, artificial environments whittled out of several large asteroids located in the middle of a huge asteroid field. The main one was a smelly hole bored into a large asteroid that was known as Skip 1.

Zeen Afit showed Han the way into the Run, through the treacherous, constantly changing asteroid field, though he wouldn’t let him pilot his clunky old freighter, the Corona. “Next time, kid,” he promised, in his breathless, wheezy voice, as his fingers flew over the controls.

“I promise you. This time, just watch old Uncle Zeen and enjoy the ride.”

Han gulped as Corona narrowly missed colliding with a jagged, hurtling rock that would have reduced them and their ship to molecules. “If I’m still alive when the next time comes,” he pointed out, involuntarily ducking as another asteroid nearly grazed their viewscreen. “Blast it, Zeen, slow down! Are you crazy?”