Star Wars_ Tales From Jabba's Palace - Kevin J. Anderson [68]
“Just from that kid and his friends? It can’t be.”
“It can,” I said stubbornly. “And I’m going to tell Jabba so.”
“He won’t like it,” Barada warned. “You know how he gets. If he thinks you’re crossing him, he might just drop you in that pit too.”
“Okay. Okay,” I said. “I could just let it go and save myself. But I owe him.”
“Enough to risk your life?”
“Why not? He risked his life for me once.”
“Did he?” Barada asked with interest. “How?”
I’d always kept this to myself before, but there didn’t seem any reason not to spill it now.
“Well, he and I were partners in a little gunrunning scheme way back, right after I quit mercenary work. We were going to liberate a cache of Imperial weapons and sell them to the highest bidder. It was on a moon of Glakka, nothing but a rough chunk of ice.”
“We were pulling out the weapons when an Imperial goon squad arrived. We’d been ratted out by one of Jabba’s boys.
“The rest of our gang either ran for it or bought it real quick. But he and I put up a better fight. He was thinner then, quick and tough and strong. Never seen a better fighter, except maybe me.
“So we made a stand there, fighting back to back against them all. They came in close enough to smell ’em. I had to blast some right off his back. In the end only we were left, shot up bad, but alive. It was the weather that tried to finish us off.
“When night came, it dropped to sub-subfreezing. I was worse off than him and not so well insulated, so he saved me, wrapping his own body around me. Not too pleasant a night, but better than turning icicle.
“By dawn, he was nearly frozen himself. We only made it off that cube ’cause some of our bunch who had escaped before came back looking for us.”
“I’ll be blasted,” Barada said in awe. “I always wondered why you stayed hanging around here when you could’ve gone anywhere.”
“Now you know. I’ve been paying back ever since, spying out plots and scams against the Hutt, covering his tail. I’ve sent more than a few poor suckers to the rancor or Sarlacc myself. But not this time.”
“I still think you’re wrong,” Barada said. “Seems to me you’ve already paid the boss back, and in spades. You don’t have to owe him anymore.”
“There’s more to it than just that,” I said. “See, I found out I just can’t be a part of all this anymore. That Jedi’s touch did something. It revived something in me I thought was long dead.” I struggled to explain it to him, but this other reason wasn’t so clear to me yet. “My people back on Vinsioth were hunters and farmers. They were close to the land, to nature. They believed in the force in living things, and they worshiped it. But I was too smart for that. I was too good for their simple life. I wanted something more.
“I thought I’d left all that life behind when I left to go soldier-of-fortuning around the galaxy. But it’s in me, Barada! I found out it’s a part of me I can’t ignore. And this Torce’ of the Jedi, well … it must be my force, too. I’m not gonna destroy it, Barada. I just can’t!”
He listened, then he shook his head and sighed. “Sorry, my friend. I don’t get it. That’s all mumbo-jumbo to me.” He got to his feet. “You do what you have to. But I think you’re crazy.” He moved away.
“Where are you going?” I called after him.
“Back to work, what else? We’re heading for the pit in less than an hour. I just hope you’ll be a passenger, not a prisoner.”
I thought it all over as Jabba’s court roused itself and got to work loading up the sail barge. When they started to file aboard themselves, I decided I had to make my move. I hitched up my courage and approached the Hutt as he glided toward the loading ramp on his repulsor sled, towing that captured woman who’d become his newest pet by her long chain.
“My old friend, you seem troubled,” he rumbled out.
“I am, Jabba,” I told him. “Please don’t do this.”
“This?” he said in astonishment, stopping the sled short. “Do you mean my