Star Wars_ Tales From Jabba's Palace - Kevin J. Anderson [95]
“Solo cost Jabba dearly, as I said. He would expect payment for the shipment of spice Solo dumped if he ever let him go.”
“I will pay whatever Han cost Jabba, plus interest, if that is the only deal we can make,” Skywalker said. “But you do not want money. You want to help your people, though your plans will hurt them more than ever. Free Han, and after you overthrow Jabba—join the Rebellion. The New Republic will put Ryloth under its protection. Ryloth will not be destroyed, as it will be under the Empire, and you will accomplish your goals.”
Fortuna could not speak for a moment. The intuitive powers of this young human were strong indeed. Luke’s conviction and honesty touched Fortuna’s heart. For a brief moment, Fortuna saw a bright future in which people would not have to plot and scheme and connive as he had done all his life. But the moment passed. Fortuna felt the heavy weight of the Empire and its ways settle back down around his mind. The Empire would not be overthrown. He could not entrust the fate of the Twi’lek people to the idealistic dreams of the pitiable Rebellion. Fortuna believed his own plans were, after all, the best.
“Your words move me,” he told Skywalker, finally, and he could not resist saying something about his coming overthrow of Jabba. “Some of what you foretold will take place within days. Your friend is best left frozen till then. He will be utterly safe in the carbonite during the troubles that come. But you are wrong about money. I will need great quantities of it to fulfill my dreams. Jabba will not accept your offer of payment with interest for Solo, though I will convey it to him. Rest assured, however, that when the day comes, I will accept.”
Skywalker quickly stood and bowed as if the meeting were over, though Fortuna had not had time to offer him a glass of spiced water or finish his other duties as host. This brusqueness was unexpected, and Fortuna wondered if the human was in a hurry to leave because he realized Fortuna knew the truth about him and his plot. That plot would change now, Fortuna was certain of it. He did not stand or return Skywalker’s bow.
“I will yet have Solo,” Skywalker said, and Fortuna detected no arrogance in what he said, no boasting. His words were a simple statement of what he believed fact.
“You will indeed have your friend after you bring your money to me. You will know when to come,” Fortuna said. Skywalker turned and walked away.
Fortuna did not tell the bright-eyed young human exactly how he meant to keep his word. He would sell him what Han Solo would have been reduced to by then: his brain. That was what the guards would deliver to this “Jedi” after they had his money. Such a deal would gain the attention of the Empire and improve Fortuna’s standing in it.
Jabba rejected the Jedi’s offer and ordered Fortuna not to admit Skywalker—just as Fortuna had predicted. In the time that followed, Fortuna watched those the Rebellion had planted in the palace. The droids, the guard served with excellence. Then even more representatives of the Rebellion were planted, so to speak—taken, even, to Jabba’s bosom: a human woman, Leia Organa, one-time princess and Imperial senator—now a dancing slave, after she foolishly unmasked herself and saved Fortuna the trouble of bringing Han Solo out of the carbonite; and the Wookiee, Chewbacca, whom she brought to complete her failed disguise and who was promptly imprisoned, now with his old friend Solo. This plot did not look to be going very well—with key players in it seemingly