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"Authorized Hutt crediteers! High stakes only!"

Boba stopped. He turned and saw a very large dome-shaped tent. It could easily have hidden Slave I, and another ship besides. As Boba watched, its door flap opened to let someone out. A cold, white burst of cloud followed. Boba took a step closer, enjoying the feel of the chill air against his skin.

"You!"

A tall, thin Etti towered above him. He was expensively dressed, and clutched a handful of blinking chips.

"No beggars here!" he said, and lashed out at Boba.

"I'm not a beggar," Boba said angrily, turning.

"No?" The Etti gamemaster looked down at him. He took note of the Mandalorian helmet. "No, I suppose not."

He gave Boba a mirthless smile. From the domed tent behind him came the sounds of deep, unsettling laughter. "But you're still not wanted here. Kurjj, get rid of this creature! Whoever he is. Bib Fortuna informs me that the chief wishes to observe the races from here this evening. He wishes privacy," the Etti hissed, staring at Boba.

A hulking Drovian guard stepped out of the dome.

Boba swallowed, but stood his ground. "I'm looking for someone," he said.

The Drovian's huge hand reached for him. Still Boba did not flinch.

The Etti stared. His cold smile grew wider. He watched as the Drovian started to grasp Boba's shoulder.

"Wait." The Etti raised his long thin arm. The Drovian guard grew still. The gambling master turned and fixed his glittering eyes on Boba.

"Were you sent by someone?" he asked slyly. He slid the chips into a pocket of his robe and rubbed his twiglike hands together. "Your employer has business with me, perhaps?"

Boba shook his head. "No," he said. His heart was pounding, but he was not afraid. "I represent myself alone."

"Indeed. And you are looking for...?"

Boba took a deep breath. "I have business with Jabba the Hutt."

"Really?" The Etti's thin eyes creased with amusement. His voice rose, and he held open the tent flap behind him. "And what would a Mandalorian want with Jabba the Hutt?"

"That's my business," said Boba defiantly. He turned and started to walk away.

"HO HO HO!"

From the tent echoed a low, booming laugh, so deep it seemed to make the ground shake beneath Boba's feet. "Business! I am always ready to do business - for a price! Bring him in, Kurjj!" a voice called in Huttese, which Boba could understand.

Boba froze.

That voice could belong to only one being on Tatooine. One being in the entire galaxy.

"He says he has business with Jabba the Hutt?" the voice roared.

"Well then, it's time we met!"

CHAPTER TEN

With a nasty smile, the Etti held the tent flap open. The Drovian pushed Boba roughly inside. Boba looked up.

Ulp, he thought. This looks bad.

He had never been more grateful for his father's battle helmet. He only prayed that the thing before him couldn't see him inside it.

When Boba first met Count Dooku, he thought the tall, elegant man was sinister, but not truly frightening. As for Aurra Sing - she was powerful and cunning, and absolutely ruthless.

But she was a bounty hunter, like Boba. He could understand how she thought. He could understand how she would react, and sometimes even predict it.

But this - thing - in front of him almost defied understanding.

Part of it was simply how huge he was. Back on Aargau, Boba had glimpsed Jabba's nephew, Gorga the Hutt. Gorga had been big and disgusting.

But he was nothing compared to his uncle Jabba.

Jabba wasn't merely big. He was immense.

And he was hideous.

His mounded, sluglike form nearly filled the great dome of the tent. He reclined on a wide raised platform covered with beautiful hand woven rugs and tapestries, all coated with thick slime.

Jabba's followers occupied every remaining bit of space. Some of them were watching a Podrace on a large viewscreen. Others were hunched over gambling tables.