Star Wars_ The Han Solo Trilogy 03_ Rebel Dawn - A. C. Crispin [39]
Durga glared at his cousin.
Zier glared back. “And … cousin … if any accidents befall me, it will go the worse for you. I have filed copies of the financial reports in places you have no way of discovering. They will be produced should I die—no matter how much it might seem that I perished of natural causes.”
The younger Hutt resisted the urge to order his guards to shoot Zier. Hutts were notoriously hard to kill, and another death might well cause all of Besadii to rise up against him.
Durga drew a deep breath. “Perhaps you are right, cousin,” he said, finally. “From this day forward, I will personally finance the investigation.”
“Good,” Zier said. “And … Durga. In your parent’s absence I feel I must give you the benefit of my experience.”
If Durga had possessed teeth, he would have ground them together in rage. “Go on,” he said.
“Black Sun, Durga. It is an open secret that you used their resources to consolidate your power. I caution you against doing so again. One cannot just employ Black Sun and then walk away. Their services are … expensive.”
“They have been fully compensated for their services,” Durga said tightly. “I am not such a fool as you think, Zier.”
“Good,” the other Hutt Lord said. “I am glad to hear that. I was worried about you, dear cousin. Any Hutt who would rid himself of such a chef—on a whim—is suspect.”
Seething, Durga undulated off in search of another staff member to interrogate.
Jabba the Hutt and his aunt Jiliac were lounging together in their palatial receiving room in Jiliac’s palace on Nal Hutta, watching Jiliac’s baby inch its way around the room. The infant Hutt was now old enough to spend almost an hour outside Jiliac’s pouch. At this stage of its life, the little creature resembled a huge, chubby grub or insect larva more than a Hutt. Its arms were nothing more than vestigial stubs, and would not develop or grow digits until the baby Hutt had left the maternal pouch for good. The only way in which the baby Hutt resembled the adult members of its species was its pop-eyed, vertical-pupiled stare.
Hutt babies were born almost mindless, and Hutt youngsters did not reach the age of accountability until they were about a century old. Before that, they were looked upon as creatures who needed good care and feeding, and not much else.
As he watched the baby wriggle along the polished stone floor, Jabba wished they were back on Nar Shaddaa, where he could get more done. It was difficult to oversee the Desilijic smuggling empire from Nal Hutta. Jabba had suggested more than once that he and his aunt go back to Nar Shaddaa, but Jiliac adamantly refused, insisting that the polluted atmosphere of Nar Shaddaa would be unhealthy for her baby.
Jabba thus spent much of his time shuttling back and forth between Nal Hutta and Nar Shaddaa. His holdings on Tatooine were suffering by his absence. Ephant Mon, the non-humanoid Chevin, was looking after Jabba’s interests, and doing it well, but it just wasn’t the same as being there himself.
Jabba had shared many adventures in the past with Mon, and the ugly sentient from Vinsoth was the only being in the universe that Jabba really trusted. For some reason (even Jabba wasn’t sure why), Ephant Mon was completely loyal to Jabba, and always had been. Jabba knew that the Chevin had turned down multiple offers to betray him for fabulous profit. Yet … Ephant Mon had never turned, no matter how much he was offered.
Jabba appreciated his friend’s loyalty and repaid it by keeping only minor tabs on Ephant Mon’s actions. He didn’t expect Mon to betray him, not after all these years … but it was well to be prepared