• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

"G'wan," the Drovion spat, waving him past. "You're expected. As a matter of fact, you're early - no one thought you'd be back this soon."

"Some hoped you wouldn't make it back at all!" his companion laughed.

Boba gave him a cold look. "I'll be sure to mention that to Jabba."

The lackey cringed as Boba went on. Being Jabba's favored bounty hunter definitely had its advantages.

When he reached the passage leading to the throne room, he stopped.

He could see a dozen or so shadowy figures milling inside the corridor.

He recognized several of them by their weapons and body armor: bounty hunters.

Something's going on, thought Boba. But what?

From inside, shrill music and harsh laughter echoed - the usual sounds of depravity that surrounded Jabba the Hutt.

There was another sound, too, almost as loud. Boba's stomach was growling.

I haven't eaten since yesterday afternoon, he thought. And it's going to take a while to tell Jabba the whole story about Jhakva. Plus, this will give me a chance to hear any gossip about what's happened since I left....

He glanced back toward the throne room. Besides the bounty hunters, he saw droids and several ragged-looking space pirates, a young Twi'lek dancer twitching from nerves, and an Arkanian holding a very young and very active Arkanian dragon on a leash.

Looks like Jabba might be distracted for a few more minutes, Boba figured. Quickly he turned and hurried down a side passage.

"At last! You've come with the new worm castings!" A Selonian wearing a white chef's robe over its sleek-furred body peered out from a doorway. When it saw Boba, its face fell.

"My mistake," it said, and turned back to stirring something disgusting in a bubbling pot.

Boba kept moving. He passed several doorways, each with a sign on it in Huttese characters. KITCHEN FOUR, KITCHEN FIVE, KITCHEN SIX...

"Kitchen Seven," said Boba with relief as he came to the last door.

He adjusted his pack and went inside.

Immediately, he was greeted by the warm simmering scents of baking pod-bread, yowvetch custard, scry-mint. A gnarled figure was bent over a steaming oven. Beside him, another figure was putting the finishing touches on a white worm souffl©.

"Am I too late for breakfast?" asked Boba.

"No breakfast till tomorrow," the elderly figure said without looking up.

"Not even for a starving bounty hunter?" The two cooks turned.

"Boba!" cried the younger one. She swiped the hair from her eyes, leaving a smudge of flour. "You're back! And you've gotten even taller!"

Boba grinned. "Maybe you're just shrinking, Ygabba."

Ygabba shook her head. She looked him up and down. "Nope. You're definitely taller. You're going to need some new body armor soon, Boba."

Boba took the pack from his shoulders and set it on the floor.

"Tell me about it," he said. "That'll be my first order of business with Jabba. Second, actually." He cocked a thumb at what was in the pack.

Gab'borah looked down. He was Ygabba's father. As Jabba's head dessert-chef, he was accustomed to seeing all kinds of revolting things.

But even he was impressed by Boba's trophy.

"Jabba will be very pleased," Gab'borah said. He poked at one of the withered hands approvingly. "I didn't even recognize your voice, Boba. And Ygabba's right - you've grown."

The old man smiled and pointed to the wall behind Boba. There, over the past two years, Gab'borah had lined up Ygabba and Boba, drawing a line where the top of their heads met the wall. Boba looked at the most recent mark, and, yes, he was many centimeters taller now.

"Bounty hunting must agree with you," said Gab'borah with a wink.

He turned and took a plate of yowvetch custard, still warm and quivering from the oven. "Here, Boba - you look half-famished."

Boba began eating ravenously. "Mmmm - this is great," he said.

"Don't take too long with it," Ygabba warned. "Something's happening. There's a bunch of bounty hunters who've