Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 05_ Allies - Christie Golden [31]
“And no one would violate the Fountain, so no one else gets to grow pak’pahs.”
“Why would no one violate the Fountain?”
Vestara’s blunt question clearly offended the elder Klatooinian. “Because not only is it wrong, and most of our visitors are enlightened enough to know that,” he said, rather pointedly, “but because it would violate the Treaty of Vontor.”
“What’s that?”
The grocer drew breath to speak, but his son interrupted him. “Over twenty-five thousand years ago, Barada M’Beg, the Klatooinian for whom most males on my world are named, including my father, signed a treaty with the Hutts. In return for the Hutt’s promise to protect the Fountain, Barada M’Beg promised the Hutts the servitude of my people forever.”
Kelkad’s voice was polite and cool, almost disinterested. But Barada shot him a worried look and glanced around. The market was crowded and noisy and nobody seemed to be paying any attention to the conversation.
“That is correct,” Barada said. “And the Hutts have always kept their bargain. No one has violated the Fountain in all that time. Is there anything you two would care to purchase?”
His point was clear. “Uh,” Ben said. “Yeah. You liked the pak’pah, right Vestara?”
Vestara caught on at once, as he knew she would. “Yes. We’ll take—oh, about a dozen.”
“Sure,” said Kelkad. “Let me help you select the best ones.”
There was nothing further for Barada to do other than walk away, casting a worried glance at his son and a not-very-friendly one at Vestara and Ben. The three bent their heads together, selecting out the most succulent pak’pah fruit while softly continuing their conversation.
Vestara cut right to the point with lightsaber keenness. “You don’t approve of the treaty, do you, Kelkad?” Her whisper was soft and husky.
“No,” Kelkad said. “And there are many who think like me scattered throughout the galaxy. Some have escaped their bonds of servitude and live free, on free worlds.”
“What’s meant by ‘servitude’ anyway?” Ben queried. “Is that polite code for ‘slavery’?”
“It can be,” said Kelkad. “It can be whatever the Hutts want it to mean.”
Ben frowned a little, confused. “It’s got to be dangerous to voice dissent here. So how come you’re talking so freely to us?”
“Because I heard that you’re Jedi.”
Vestara continued to look sincere and earnest. Ben supposed that it didn’t matter if she heard Kelkad’s impassioned opinion. Vestara didn’t work for the Hutts, and he couldn’t imagine the Sith Tribe caring one way or another about a species on a remote world and its twenty-five-thousand-year bond of “servitude.”
“Well, some of us are Jedi,” Ben said. “I’m a Jedi Knight.”
For the first time, Kelkad gave him a genuine smile. “Jedi despise slavery.”
“We do, but the treaty’s kind of … legal, isn’t it? I mean, you weren’t snatched up and carted away someplace against your will.”
Ben did not look at Vestara as he said these words, but he felt her shiver in the Force, ever so slightly. She had done exactly that to the Nightsisters. He was starting to grow highly attuned to her nuances in the Force, as well as learning how to read her usually impassive face and body language.
“No, but I did not sign the treaty,” Kelkad continued bitterly. More loudly he said, “This one looks good,” and made a show of dropping another fruit into Vestara’s bag. “And I do not get to decide my own fate. That is wrong. Jedi know that it’s wrong, don’t they?”
He looked Ben full in the face, his large dark eyes pleading. Ben felt a stab of guilt. Not for the first time, Ben found himself confronted with what was right versus what was legal. It was an issue that seemed to be cropping up an awful lot these days. He wanted to say something calming and wise like his father so often did when confronted with things like this, but found no words would come.
Fortunately, Kelkad did not appear to want to wait for Ben’s comment, and he had no such problem speaking. He continued, the words tumbling