The Hutt Lords were unable to reach a conclusion about Besadii’s off-the-scale profits. The discussion rambled on, degenerated into personal insults, then ended with no conclusion.
Aruk took the floor again. He was still concerned about the recent violence. Jiliac acknowledged that she was concerned, too. Durga was surprised that they could agree on anything. Finally, Desilijic and Besadii united to put forward an unprecedented proposal.
“I propose,” Aruk said, in summary, “that the Grand Council declare a moratorium on violence between the kajidics for at least the next three standard months! Who will support me in this?”
Jiliac and Jabba voiced their enthusiastic approval, then, one by one, the representatives of the other clans chimed in. Mardoc declared Aruk’s proposal adopted.
Durga looked up at his parent and felt another wave of pride. Aruk is a giant among Hutts!
Much later that night, as both Hutts prepared to sleep in Jiliac’s Nal Hutta mansion, which was located on an island in one of Nal Hutta’s more temperate zones, Jiliac turned to Jabba. “Aruk is dangerous. I am more convinced of it than ever.”
“Yes, he was quite impressive when he managed to rally the clans,” Jabba agreed. “He has … charisma. He can be very persuasive.”
“It is truly ironic that it was Aruk who wound up proposing my idea about the moratorium,” Jiliac said. “But as the meeting progressed, I realized that if I hoped to convince the others of the wisdom of the moratorium, the idea would have to come from Aruk.”
Jabba nodded. “He is a forceful orator, Aunt.”
“An orator who must be deprived of his voice, or Desilijic will suffer even more,” Jiliac said soberly. “A three-month moratorium on interkajidic violence will free our minds so that we may look at the problem of Aruk without distractions.”
Jabba blinked his bulbous eyes at his aunt as she settled herself comfortably on her padded resting spot. “What are you thinking, Aunt?”
Jiliac was silent for a moment, then said, “I am thinking that this is our chance to strike at Aruk’s weak spot.”
“His weak spot?”
“Yes, Nephew. Aruk has a weak spot, and it has a name. And that name is . .
.”
“Teroenza,” Jabba said.
“Correct, Nephew.”
When Teroenza boarded Kibbick’s space yacht for the trip back to Ylesia, he was in a very bad mood. Aruk had not permitted them to have any kind of a holiday on Nal Hutta, stressing that they must get back to Ylesia to see to the rebuilding after the raid.
Teroenza had been profoundly disappointed. He’d hoped to see his mate, Tilenna, while he was home.
But Aruk had said “no,” and said it with such stern disapproval that Teroenza hadn’t dared to ask again.
So here he was, stuck with that idiot Kibbick for company. When he could have been sporting with his lovely mate in a delicious, sensual mud wallow.
Disgustedly, Teroenza plodded into his large, well-appointed cabin, and sank into his resting sling. Blast Aruk! The Hutt Lord was getting irrational in his old age—irrational and mean. Meaner, that is, than he’d been before.
The High Priest still smarted from the “financial review” he’d been forced to sit through. Aruk had questioned every expenditure, carped about every extra credit. He’d gone on and on about how the bounty Teroenza had posted on Solo was completely unnecessary. “Let Boba Fett blast him into atoms!” he’d raged. “Disintegrations are much cheaper! Allowing yourself personal revenge on Solo is simply selfindulgent!”
Grumpily, Teroenza reached out and turned on his comm unit. Words in Huttese formed on the screen, even before he could key in his personal code.
Eyes widening, Teroenza read the following message: “This message will vanish in sixty seconds. Attempting to save it will destroy your comm unit. Memorize the following comcode and reply to it.”
A complicated comcode followed.
Intrigued, Teroenza memorized the code. As promised, in sixty seconds, it blinked off, to be replaced by the words “What do you want most?
We’d like to know. Perhaps we can help each other.”
The message, of course, was unsigned, but Teroenza had a good idea of who had sent it. As he sat watching it blink off, to be replaced by his comm unit’s standard greeting and request for ID code, Teroenza realized what this meant.
Would he reply to the message?
Was he a traitor?
What did he want most?
7
Con Games When Han flew Jabba back to Nar Shaddaa following the big Hutt conference (Jiliac had decided to stay on Nal Hutta for the length of her confinement) he immediately sought out Lando Calrissian.
During his trip to Nal Hutta, Chewbacca had been continuing the young gambler’s piloting lessons, and Han was encouraged at his new friend’s progress. “You’re coming right along, old buddy,” he said as Lando, his mouth tight with concentration, executed a perfect landing. The ship settled into the Millennium Falcon’s assigned berth with nary a wobble.