Star Wars_ Tales From Jabba's Palace - Kevin J. Anderson [96]
But the former princess had managed to do one good thing, as far as Fortuna was concerned: she had brought a thermal detonator into the palace, and Fortuna now had it—after stealing it from a Whiphid guard who had stolen it from the princess during the commotion after her unmasking. No one ever asked what became of it. It alone made a marvelous contingency plan.
Then one morning, Fortuna woke suddenly, before all the others. Something was not right in the palace: someone was in it who should not be, and he was walking toward the throne room. Fortuna sat up and arranged his robes, and his intuition told him who was coming: Luke Skywalker. Fortuna moved quietly and quickly across the throne room and met Skywalker at the top of the steps.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. “You know Jabba has not accepted your offer, and he will not speak to you. You must wait for me.”
“You will take me to Jabba now,” Skywalker said. No explanation. Typical arrogance.
“I will take you to Jabba now,” he answered Skywalker.
For a brief moment, Fortuna paused to consider whether the Jedi’s tricks could have influenced his mind, but he quickly lost that thought. Surely it could not be so.
Fortuna started back down the stairs and looked at Jabba. Waking him in the morning was a task not lightly undertaken, but he would do it. The incompetent guards were at last stirring and looking in his direction. The human followed Fortuna down the steps and mumbled some nonsense at his back about serving his master well and being rewarded. Fortuna could not repress a smile. He spoke in Jabba’s ear: “Luke Skywalker, the Jedi, has come to speak to you.”
Jabba was angry at once, and Fortuna braced himself. “I told you not to admit him,” Jabba grumbled.
“I must be allowed to speak,” Skywalker said. He tried to use his anything-but-subtle mind-manipulation trick on everyone in the room.
“He must be allowed to speak,” Fortuna said—but Jabba threw Fortuna against the wall. “You weak-minded fool!” he shouted at him.
Fortuna took his time getting up and straightening his robes. No one would look at him. Fortuna felt shamed in front of his supporters. It was a precarious moment. Fortuna had planned to launch his coup within two days; he knew now that it would have to come within hours. His plans would have to change, and change quickly. Once out of Jabba’s favor, he would not live long.
Fortuna quickly analyzed his situation. Perhaps Jabba had been correct about his being weak-minded: looking back, Fortuna could believe that Skywalker had influenced his mind—but this was no time for self-doubt, not if he were to survive. He wondered how much of his plans Jabba guessed or knew. Much, probably: he would not have reacted violently if he still trusted Fortuna and his judgment. Fortuna let his intuition touch the minds of his supporters, and he was startled: it took no special training in intuition to sense the contempt some now felt for him. Three were even inclined to unmask Fortuna’s plot. Fortuna realized that, under the circumstances, his plans might have to become even more abbreviated—before his support eroded further. The arrogant “Jedi” was thrown to the rancor, and in the commotion that followed, with everyone crowding around to watch the rancor eat Skywalker, no one noticed Fortuna steal away for a moment. He soon returned. If his plans had to change quickly—from days, to hours, to perhaps minutes—he could accommodate that. He now had the stolen thermal detonator in his pocket, and he kept a hand on it.
Things did change quickly: Skywalker managed to kill the rancor—to everyone’s surprise. Why couldn’t he have come earlier? Fortuna wondered. Nat would still be in his body, and valuable slaves and others—including a talented dancing girl—would still be alive. Jabba ordered Skywalker, the Wookiee, and Solo thrown to the