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Star Wars - Tales From The Mos Eisley Cantina

Page 7

by Kevin J. Anderson


  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

 

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