Star Wars_ Tales From the Mos Eisley Cantina - Kevin J. Anderson [26]
Greedo breathed a sigh of relief and bowed slavishly. “Thank you, great Jabba. Your wisdom is—”
“Na kungo! But you had better work fast! I now declare an open bounty on Han Solo. And I raise the price for his head to one hundred thousand credits!”
“One hundred thousand!” said Goa. “Every bounty hunter in the—”
“Yes. So true. If your protégé can’t get Solo, somebody else most certainly will!”
Then Jabba leaned forward and once again fastened his malevolent eyes on Greedo. “And if you do not fulfill our bargain, you had better start running, little green insect. Bring me Solo—alive or dead!”
11. The Cantina
There was live music today. The patrons were in an ugly mood.
Greedo and Goa sat in the booth next to the lobby entrance. When Solo and the Wookiee came in, Solo pretended not to see them, but Chewbacca articulated a low growl as he passed Greedo.
“They know we’re here, Warhog.”
“Yeah. That’s the idea. Are you ready to execute the plan?”
“Nchtha zno ta. Fnrt pwusko vtulla pa.” I’m not sure. I’m getting a bad feeling.
“Well, if you’re not ready, I suggest we head for hyperspace, before Jabba finds out. I’ve got work to do.”
“Where’s Dyyz?”
“He left this morning. Hitched a ride with 4-Lom and Zuckuss. Dyyz has a rich contract—a warlord who decided to evict the Hutts from the Komnor system.”
“Sounds like a difficult job.”
“Very difficult. But Dyyz Nataz is the man to do it. And you’re the right hunter for the Han Solo hit, Greedo my boy. Are you ready?”
Just then there was a disturbance at the bar. Shouting, a scuffle, then the sudden flash and drone of a lightsaber. A dismembered arm flew through the air, landing near Greedo’s chair. The music stopped.
Greedo and Goa had noticed the old man and the boy come in, and they had heard the bartender eject the droids. Goa had noted the quiet intensity of the old man, and the thought had crossed his mind: He’s old, but I wouldn’t want to test myself against him in a blaster fight.
The room was deathly silent. Greedo sucked in his breath and hooted softly. “Nice piece of work for an old man,” he said.
“Must be a Jedi,” said Goa. “I thought their kind were long gone.”
Greedo had never seen a Jedi.
The room came to life again, the band resumed tootling, the bartender’s helper removed the mutilated arm. Somebody ordered a round of drinks for the house.
“Check it, Greedo. The old man and the kid are talking to Solo and the Wook. You’re going to have to wait your turn.”
Greedo didn’t respond. His veins were pumping excitement at the sudden carnage.
The two Rodian bounty hunters strolled in, and Goa motioned them over to the table. Greedo looked at his beer, concentrating on what he was going to say to Solo.
“Boys … I’d like you to meet Greedo … my apprentice. Greedo, this is Thuku and Neesh, two fine bounty killers.”
Greedo looked up and saw two pair of huge eyes studying him with detached curiosity. Did he detect hostility glinting in those multifaceted orbs? The one called Thuku held out a suckered hand. “Wa tetu dat oota, Greedo.”
“Ta ceko ura nsha,” said Greedo, allowing his suckers to briefly engage Thuku’s. The three Rodians entered into a short conversation, while Goa looked on, amused. Neesh told Greedo he’d heard that Jabba had awarded him Han Solo as a quarry. Neesh seemed impressed.
Thuku warned Greedo that Solo “has already killed two of Jabba’s bill collectors … Be careful, brother. You could be the next.”
“Thanks for the advice,” said Greedo, with bravado. “I’m not worried. I’ve got Warhog for backup, in case Solo or the Wookiee try anything stupid.”
The two fellow Rodians exchanged glances with Goa, and Greedo thought he detected they were silently laughing at him. Yeah, of course they think I’m a young fool. Well, that’s the way it is when you’re just starting out. I’ll show ’em!
Imperial stormtroopers entered the bar, and a minute later, when Greedo looked across the room, Solo and the Wookiee were sitting alone.