Star Wars_ Tales From Jabba's Palace - Kevin J. Anderson [85]
“Look—”
“Take him away.”
“Jabba, I’ll pay you triple. You’re throwing away a fortune here. Don’t be a fool.”
The guards seized the smuggler’s arms and hauled him away.
“Now,” said Jabba, “bring her to me.” By “her” he meant Princess Leia.
Two of the Gamorrean guards took Leia’s arms and led her forward toward the throne.
“We have powerful friends,” she said as they shoved her up on Jabba’s dais. “You’re going to regret this.”
“I’m sure,” Jabba said. He pressed his lips close to her and extended his tongue, and Max wondered if he intended to eat her.
“Play,” Jabba commanded.
Max dropped his cup and scrambled toward his organ.
As the band launched into “Ode to a Radioactive Ruin,” two dancing girls stripped off Leia’s clothes and gave her a skimpy gold outfit to wear. She was a scrawny thing underneath the battle armor, Max decided, and definitely malnourished. He’d have to see if he could slip her an extra meal or three to fatten her up properly.
It took hours for the party to die. When it finally did, everyone just lay down where they were and dozed off.
Max still had a few small blatberry pies tucked away behind his organ. He picked one out and carried it to Jabba’s dais. There he set it next to Princess Leia, who looked at him with an unhappy expression.
“In case you get hungry,” he said softly.
“Thanks,” she whispered.
He smiled a little, nodded politely, and headed for his room.
• • •
When he learned that Jabba planned a day trip out across the Dune Sea, Max had droids carry their instruments out to the sail barge and set them up on the lower deck. It was a beautiful cloudless day, the portals were open, and a warm breeze blew through. They’d have a great view of everyone and everything around them. Nothing like a trip to build your appetite, Max thought.
As always, Sy showed up late. At least she was dressed and ready for work, so it didn’t really matter. Max tuned his organ while Sy did her vocal warm-up exercises, and they were ready to play. Nothing to do now, he thought, except wait for the crowds to arrive.
Droids equipped with huge platters of food and drink were already moving into position around the deck, and Max grabbed a handful of chooca nuts as a G4 unit passed. He accepted a goblet of Chagarian ale from an R2 unit and stashed it under his organ for later.
Toward lunchtime guests began filing aboard. They were all talking about a Jedi Knight—someone named Luke something?—whom Jabba had captured that morning. It seemed the Jedi and his friends were to be thrown to a creature out in the desert.
Max powered up his organ and played a pleasant little instrumental ditty called “Ode to a Master Chef” which he’d written himself, wringing every nuance from the keyboard. He was in top form today, he thought. Life was great in Jabba’s palace.
Finally Jabba himself boarded, floating out on his dais. It had repulsorlift coils underneath it, Max saw. So that was how Jabba moved about. This was the first time he’d actually seen the Hutt leave his throne room.
And Jabba still had the princess with him.
When Jabba settled into his place in the observation cabin, Max nodded to Sy and let her call out the next number. As the sail barge turned and headed out into the Dune Sea, the party really got going.
An hour out, the sail barge drew to a stop. Everyone grew still, and Max let his song fade unfinished.
All the window shutters opened and Jabba’s dais floated forward.
“Victims of the almighty Sarlacc, His Excellency hopes that you will die honorably,” the gold translator droid said through the sail barge’s speaker system. “But should any of you wish to beg for mercy, the great Jabba the Hutt will now listen to your pleas.”
Max strained to see what was going on outside, but there were too many people crowded around the windows and he couldn’t see. From the murmurs around him, though, he got the general idea of what was going on. It seemed the prisoners had refused to beg, insulting Jabba horribly in the process.
Jabba only laughed. After