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“Ooooh-che-nah!” she sang. “I eee-eeee-eat my young!”

Max upped the power on the amps and went into a quick solo. Nothing like dazzling fingerwork to keep your appetite up, he thought smugly.

A blaster sounded close by, and Max let the music fade out. What was going on? Jabba didn’t like it when blaster fights broke out. Someone would certainly feed the rancor tonight, he thought.

A scruffy-looking bounty hunter appeared with a Wookiee in tow. “I have come for the bounty on this Wookiee,” he said.

Jabba laughed, his whole body shaking. “At last we have the mighty Chewbacca,” he said through his new gold translator droid. “Welcome, bounty hunter. I will gladly pay you the reward of twenty-five thousand.”

“Fifty thousand!” the bounty hunter chirped. “No less.”

Jabba hit his droid in anger and snarled, “Why do I have to pay fifty thousand?”

“Because I’m holding a thermal detonator!” the bounty hunter said. He held out a silver sphere. His thumb touched the button on top and the detonator activated.

If he let go, the sphere would explode, Max knew, destroying the whole throne room and everyone in it. He covered his face. This was enough to put him off supper!

“The bounty hunter is my kind of scum, fearless and inventive,” Jabba announced after a good laugh. Max uncovered his face. “I offer the sum of thirty-five,” Jabba said through his droid.

“Very well,” said the bounty hunter.

“He agrees!” cried the droid.

As the Gamorrean guards moved forward and took the Wookiee away, Sy said, “Hit it!”

Max gave a two-beat lead, then they launched into “Galactic Dance Blast.” It had a rhythm, was easy to play, and Max knew he wouldn’t mess it up even though his hands were trembling. A thermal detonator! At least it hadn’t gone off. He’d have extra helpings at dinner tonight, he thought, to calm his nerves.

Jabba kept them playing for the next few hours. Something seemed to be up—something big—but Sy was too busy singing to pick up on what it was, though she listened intently.

When Max finally shut down his organ for the evening, Sy stepped down and started for her room. Bib Fortuna caught her arm.

“No,” he said to all of them. “Don’t break down yet.”

“I don’t understand,” Sy said. “It’s dinnertime.”

“Jabba’s planning a party for later tonight.”

“But what about dinner?” Max said. “It’s in my contract!”

“Get it if you want, but bring it back here. You’re going to sleep in the throne room tonight. Jabba’s orders.”

Sy swallowed. “Of course,” she said, “if that’s what Jabba wants.”

Max turned to Droopy. “Come on, let’s get some dinner. Take-out!”

“Take-out,” the Kitonak echoed.

“Bring me some, too,” Sy said. “And this time don’t eat it on the way back here, Max!”

Later that evening, behind a curtain that masked the throne room from the display alcove where the smuggler in carbonite hung, Max lay listening intently. First he heard a metallic jangle, then soft footsteps as someone stole rather ineptly into the room. Then came a dull boom. He saw Jabba tense, then lean forward to look out through a small hole in the curtain.

Suddenly Jabba began to laugh. Those closest to him laughed as well. As the curtain rolled aside, everyone was laughing, so Max joined in. At last he could see what was so funny.

The bounty hunter who had used the thermal detonator to blackmail Jabba had set the smuggler encased in carbonite free! And beneath the mask, the bounty hunter was a beautiful woman. Her face looked familiar, Max thought. Wasn’t that Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan? But Alderaan had been destroyed years before. Hadn’t the whole royal family died as well?

Jabba said, “So, I have finally caught up with you again, Solo. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Hey, Jabba, look, Jabba, I was just on my way to pay you back,” the smuggler said, blinking frantically and rubbing his eyes, “and I got a little sidetracked. It’s not my fault—”

“It’s too late for that, Solo,” Jabba said. “You may have been a good smuggler, but now you’re bantha fodder.”

Everyone around him laughed, so Max laughed, too. No