Star Wars_ The Han Solo Trilogy 03_ Rebel Dawn - A. C. Crispin [60]
“We had little choice but to upgrade our ships, Aunt,” Jabba added. “Our markets were making threats that they were going to begin dealing directly with Besadii.”
“Besadii does not have a smuggling fleet that can match ours,” Jiliac pointed out, truthfully.
“Not at the moment,” Jabba said. “But my sources indicate that Durga has already bought a few ships, and is bargaining for others. He has announced his intention of creating a fleet that will outclass ours. I believe he intends to take over the whole spice trade. We must not allow this, Aunt.”
“I agree, Nephew,” Jiliac said, waving an aqua streamer. “What shall we do about it?”
“I believe we must redouble our efforts to get more pilots to run our spice, Aunt,” Jabba said. “There must be pilots out there who are as good as Solo.”
“Is he gone?” she asked, vaguely, stroking her baby’s head.
Jabba rolled his bulbous eyes and reached into a bowl for a Carnovian eel-pup, and popped the squirming, squeaking morsel into his mouth. The baby Hutt looked over at him and drooled greenish-brown goo. Jabba hastily averted his gaze and swallowed noisily. “Solo has been gone for several months, Aunt. By all report, he went to the Corporate Sector. His loss is being felt,” he waved his datapad. “Solo was the best. I even find myself missing the fellow.”
Jiliac turned to regard her nephew in surprise. “Jabba, you are talking about a human. And a human male at that. Have your tastes changed? I thought you had a penchant for those tiresome scantily clad dancers you fancy. It is hard for me to picture Solo in a dancing costume, cavorting with that great hairy brute of a Wookiee before your throne.”
Jabba chuckled at the image. “Ho-ho, Aunt! No, my fondness for Solo comes only from the fact that he makes us money, in an expeditious fashion. He would never allow himself to be boarded and his cargo and ship impounded for smuggling. Solo is quite clever and resourceful … for a human.”
“The Empire is making its presence felt more and more out here in the Rim,” Jiliac said. “There was that massacre on that humanoid-inhabited world.…”
“Mantooine in the Atrivis Sector,” Jabba said. “Since then there has been another, aunt. Two weeks ago citizens of Tyshapahl staged a peaceful demonstration against the Empire and its taxation. The Sector Moff sent ships from the nearby Imperial garrison. The Imperial vessels hovered over the crowd with their ships on repulsors while the commander demanded that they disperse. When they did not, he signaled his ships, and each vessel activated their engines. Most of the crowd was summarily incinerated.”
Jiliac shook her massive head. “Palpatine’s forces could use a few lessons in subtlety from our people, Nephew. Such a waste of resources! Far better to have landed, then herded them all into ships to be sold as slaves. That way the Empire could have rid themselves of the dissidents, and made a profit at the same time.”
“The Emperor should bring you to Imperial Center to advise him, Aunt,” Jabba said, half-joking, but it occurred to him that he’d get a lot more done if he didn’t have to deal with and around Jiliac each day. The baby Hutt wriggled over in front of him, and he glared at it. The mindless little creature gurgled at him, burped, then spit up.
Revolting! Jabba thought, recoiling from the noxious pool of spreading liquid.
Jiliac summoned a cleaning droid and wiped the infant’s mouth. “Don’t even suggest such a thing, Jabba,” she said, sounding faintly horrified. “You know how Palpatine treats non-humans. His aversion to non-humans is so strong that he does not even recognize Hutts as a superior species!”
“True,” Jabba said. “Shortsighted of him. But he is in authority, and we must deal with that. So far we have been able to buy protection from too close