workin' for Jabba. By the way, I understand Rodian, so you can
turn off the squawk box."
Han jumped down from the scaffolding as casually as he could
and picked up a rag to wipe his hands. Hidden in the rag was a
small Telltrig-7 blaster, carefully placed there for just this
eventuality. Fortunately he didn't have to use it-his mouth was
his best weapon
"Listen . . . tell Jabba the truth-I came to Tatooine for only
one reason to pay him."
Greedo turned off the translator. Goa had suggested he use it
to make sure the "client" fully understood the gravity of the
situation. But if Solo really understands Rodian, III be able to
use untranslatable Rodian threats.
"Neshki J'ba klulta ntuz tch krast, Solo." Jabba doesn't
believe dorsal-spine parasites tell the truth, Solo.
"Yeah, well, what does that overfed vermiform know? Do you
really think I'd come anywhere near this place if I didn't have
the money?"
Greedo's hand tightened on his gun. He wasn't sure if insulting
one's employer required special action on the part of a bounty
hunter. What Solo said about being on Tatooine was logical,
though. If somebody was after your hide, would you fly into his
back pocket? This is going to be easy.
"Skak, trn kras ka noota, Solo." All right, then give me the
money, Solo. "Vnu sna Greedo vorskl ta." Then Greedo will be on
his way.
"Yeah, tell ya what, Greedo . . . tell ya what. It's not quite
that simple. The loot is bolted into the frame of the Falcon here.
Secret hiding place. Understand? Why don't you come back tomorrow
morning and I'll hand it right over, easy as pie. How's that
sound?"
"Nvtuta bork te ptu motta. Tni snato." No, get it right now.
I'll wait.
I'm not letting this gulleyfish slip out of my grasp, Greedo
thought . . . especially with Warhog watchin' me from the shadows.
"I can't get it right now. Listen, if you can wait till
tomorrow, I'll throw in a little bonus-a couple thousand credits
just for you. How's that sound?"
That sounded good.
"Prog mnete enyaz ftt save shuss." Make it four thousand
credits.
"Four thousand? Are you crazy-? Oh, all right, ya got me over a
barrel, pal. We'll do it your way. Four thousand for you, first
thing in the morning. It's a deal."
Without another word, Solo turned his back on the bounty hunter
and began cleaning a spanner. He palmed the little blaster, just
in case the green kid changed his mind. But a minute later Chewie
gave his "all clear" grunt and Solo relaxed.
"Great, Chewie. Can you believe the nerve of that guy? Now we
got to finish prepping the ship tonight. When that punk comes
around tomorrow morning, all he's going to find is a big grease
spot on the hangar floor!"
Warhog Goa sipped a Starshine Surprise and glanced around the
Mos Eisley Cantina. The bounty-hunter crowd was thinning out. A
lot of hunters had gotten their contracts and jumped. Some of 'em
were probably already stalking targets in the streets of cities a
thousand parsecs away. "Solo doesn't plan to pay you," he said,
looking at his protege. "Don't you get it? It's a stall."
Warhog noticed the two Rodians sitting in the booth near the
entrance lobby. They nodded to him and he nodded back. "You ought
to meet those two Rodies, Greedo. They're good hunters. I'll bet
they can teach ya stuff even I don't know. Want me to introduce
you?"
Greedo looked down at his drink. Goa wouldn 't know about the
clan wars. I never told him. He wouldn't know about the time the
ships came, hunting the Tetsus refugees. Tetsus just don't talk to
strange Rodians. He wouldn't know that, because I never told him.
Yeah, but what's the point? I'm a bounty hunter now, that's the
important thing. Bounty hunters hang together, drink together,
trade war stories, help each other out of jams. So after I take my
first bounty, after Solo pays me and I hand the money over to
Jabba, after the word starts to get around . . . then I'll make
friends with those guys. They'll respect me and we'll have a drink
together and they'll tell me some great stories and I'll tell them
about how I saved Dyyz and Goa by blasting Gonn right through his
electronic guts.
". . . so, like I say, Greedo, there's two sides to every deal
with Jabba. That's my lesson for today. If you collect the debt,
you'll be in Jabba's good graces. But if you let Jabba down,
you're as good as dead."
Greedo tried to sound scornful. "Don't worry, Warhog. Solo will
pay. First we find out for sure if he's got the money with him.
Then, if he doesn't hand it over, I'll kill him and take it. ...
You still going to work backup-in case the Wookiee tries
anything?"
"Sure. That's the plan, ain't it?"
''Wknuto, Goa.'' Thanks, Goa.
Han Solo's ship, the Millennium Falcon, was still sitting in
the docking hangar When Greedo walked in shortly after sunrise the
next morning.
Han Solo was nowhere to be seen. Greedo tried to open the
Falcon's hatch, but it was code-locked.
Greedo and Goa finally found Solo and the Wookiee having
breakfast at a little outdoor cafe behind the dewback stables.
Greedo kept his hand on his bolstered gun, but didn't bother to
turn off the safety because Goa had a rifle trained on the quarry
from the alley across the street.
"Rylun pa getpa gushu, Solo?" Enjoy your breakfast, Solo?
Greedo tried to sound tough and relaxed, but in fact he was
wound up tight. If Solo stiffed him today, he wouldn't know what
to do. Jabba wouldn't be happy if he killed Solo without
collecting the debt. The contract was for the money, not a corpse.
"Greedo! I've been looking all over for you! Decide to sleep in
today?" Han chortled to himself and took another bite of dewback
steak. Chewbacca raised an eyebrow and cocked his head. He had his
bowcaster leaning against his leg, loaded and ready.
"Fna ho koru gep, Solo. Kras ka noota." Don't be funny, Solo.
Give me the money.
"Sure. The money. Happy to oblige. You want something to eat
first? You look like you could use a good meal."
Greedo realized Solo was putting him on, and sudden anger
flared in his veins. Impulsively he reached down and grabbed
Solo's shirt. "Ka noota! Grot pleno ka Jabba spulta?" The money!
Or would you like to explain to Jabba personally?
"NNRRARRG!" Instantly Chewie was on his feet, one huge shaggy
arm around Greedo's neck, the other gripping the bounty hunter's
blaster hand.
"Nfuto-!"
"Thanks, Chewie." Han stood up and casually wiped his mouth
with a napkin. He reached over and took Greedo's weapon, snapped
open the chamber, and removed the power cell. He handed the
useless blaster back to Greedo.
"You know, kid, I was almost starting to like you. Now I'm not
so sure. Let me give you some sage advice. Stay away from slugs
like Jabba. Find an honest way to make a living . . . Let him go,
Chewie."
"Hnnruaahn!" Chewie released his grip, and Greedo tumbled
forward. Han stepped out of the way and Greedo fell against a
table, sending dishware crashing.
"Nice. Where does Jabba find these punks? What about the guy in
the alley across the street, Chewie?"
"Hwarrun!"
"Disappeared, huh? Another half-baked bounty creep, probably.
You'd think Jabba could buy the best to track a guy like me!"
"Hurrwan nwrunnh."
"Yeah, I agree. We're playin' with fire hanging around here.
The Falcon's prepped-we could have jumped this morning if Taggart
had kept his promise. If he doesn't show by tomorrow with that
load of glitterstim he wants transferred, we're history, okay with
you?"
"WNHUAREN!"
"I thought so."
Jabba the Hutt was not amused.
"Kubwa funga na jibo! You said this inexperienced slime-wart
could collect from Solo! I ought to toss you both into my private
dungeon and let you rot!"
Or words to that effect. The great worm huffed and rumbled and
oozed foulness. On either side of his throne platform, Weequays
and Nikto brandished their weapons ominously. As usual, Jabba's
audience chamber was crowded with the dregs of a hundred galactic
civilizations.
Warhog Goa was abject. He groveled shamelessly before the
bloated drooling crimelord. As he did so, he regretted bringing
Greedo back here without the prize. But he had to seek another
audience, to persuade Jabba to let Greedo kill Solo without
collecting the debt. That was the key. Now the words tumbled out
in one breath-he had to say it all before Jabba pronounced their
deaths!
"Oh, most incomparable Jabba, as you are well aware, Han Solo,
that worthless piece of dianoga dung, is a very difficult
customer. May I suggest that you allow my protege to simply kill
Solo, and take his ship as payment for the debt he owes you?"
Jabba grunted and puffed his water pipe thoughtfully. Then he
seemed to brighten, if that were possible. "Ne voota kinja. Jabba
likes your suggestion. He will spare the superfluous life of your
protege."
He looked straight at Greedo before he spoke again. At a signal
from Jabba, the silver protocol droid, K-8LR, stepped up and
translated Jabba's every evil word into the Rodian tongue "You
may bring me Solo so that I may kill him-or you may kill him
yourself and deliver his ship's papers to me. Jabba has seen in
his wisdom that this must be so."
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 protege 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 hy-perspace,
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. The old man and the boy had disappeared.
After the Imps passed their table, Goa unhitched his blaster
and placed it in front of him. "Okay, lad. This is your chance. If
the Wook tries to inte
rfere, I'll blast him to red smoke."
The moment had come. Greedo felt a mixture of fear and
excitement. He closed his eyes and gathered his energies. Suddenly
his mind filled with a bright image of a jungle world, dripping
green neon leaves, a gathering of little huts and busy half-naked
green bodies. He saw himself, and his brother Pqweeduk, running
under the tall Tendril trees, running toward the village. He saw
his mother standing in the clearing waiting for them. He saw
himself and his brother run to her and she held out her arms and
hugged them both. Then he was inside the vision, looking up into
her huge eyes. She was crying. "What's the matter, Mother? Why are
you sad?" "I am sad and I am happy, Greedo. I am sad because of
what must happen. I am happy because you are coming home."
Greedo snapped out of his trance and a feeling like an electric
shock went through him. What was that ? he thought.
Goa was staring at him with an annoyed look. "C'mon, kid. Are
you gonna make your move? Solo and the Wook are startin' to
leave!"
The Wookiee, Chewbacca, passed their table and disappeared into
the lobby. The perfect moment had arrived. Greedo stood up, hand
on his blaster.
"Oona goota, Solo?" Going somewhere, Solo?
"Yes, Greedo, in fact I was just going to see your boss. Tell
Jabba I've got the money."
"Sompeetalay. Vere tan te nachtvakee cheeta. Jabba warin cheeco
wa rush anye katanye wanaroska." Greedo snickered. "Chas kin yanee
ke chusko!" It's too late, you should have paid him when you had
the chance. Jabba's put a price on your head so large every bounty
hunter in the galaxy will be looking for you.
"Yeah, but this time I've got the money."
"Enjaya kul a intekun kuthuow." And I found you first.
"I don't have it with me. Tell Jabba-"
"Tena hikikne. Hoko ruya pulyana oolwan spa steeka gush shuku
ponoma three pe." If you give it to me I might forget I found you.
Jabba's through with you. He has no use for smugglers who drop
their cargo at the first sign of an Imperial cruiser.
"Even I get boarded sometimes. You think I had a choice?"
"Tlok Jabba. Boopa gopakne et an anpaw." You can tell that to
Jabba. He may only take your ship.
"Over my dead body."
Goa saw the blaster coming out of Solo's holster under the
table. He relaxed and leaned back, sipping his Sunburn. Poor
Star Wars - Tales From The Mos Eisley Cantina Page 7