Star Wars: From the Clone Wars to Starfaring Heroes

Chapter 11 - Jabba
Tatooine, the Tatoo Galaxy.

Alcanis Sector.

Jabba might live to be a thousand years old.

The Hutts, with their incredibly long lifespans, are never in a hurry to do anything.

He has accumulated a wealth of experience, knowledge, and connections.

Jabba represents eternity and stability—he is the unwritten law of Tatooine.

From the very beginning, he outshone these fleeting races.

But lately, the walls of his palace seem to be getting closer and closer.

This place no longer resembles a fortress of authority, but rather a cage that is gradually tightening, suffocating him to death.

For the first time in Jabba's long life, he began to count the days.

For the first time, he was so concerned about the passing of every minute and every second, every painful moment when Rota was not by his side.

A Gamor guard led two people to his throne—a young human and a seemingly modified R2 robot. “Your hired hacker has arrived, sir.”

The Jedi watched the two hired hackers indifferently, quietly observing from a corner of the hall.

Jabba is always cautious when dealing with Jedi, although this is rare.

Their mysticism and magic set them apart from their kind, making them elusive and unfathomable.

Jabba could never figure out their physical abilities, just like Luminara Onduli.

He couldn't figure out what she was thinking either.

Luminara Onduli and her apprentices were both generals in the Republic's army; they were Miriam.

The apprentice's emotions were more outward, showing unease and disgust towards him and his family, but the master simply observed everything with absolute indifference.

No matter how the Tirek dancers teased her, or how he fished out swamp frogs from a jar of brine and devoured them, Luminara Onduli remained as calm as a clear sky and as unmoved as a brick wall.

This made him very uncomfortable.

But Jedi are not immortal.

Every living being has desires and needs, and is willing to trade for them.

Jabba is willing to do anything to bring Rota back to him unharmed.

Nothing else matters.

He could lend all the hyperspace routes to Dooku and his Separatist alliance, or to the Jedi and their Republic; what would that mean for him?

Let them fight their short war.

This makes no sense to a long-lived race like the Hutts.

Jabba concealed his anxiety and fear for his son beneath a scornful pride, trying to remain languid on his throne and feign composure.

He scooped out another swamp frog and swallowed its head whole, even though he had long since lost his appetite.

As he licked the frog's wiggling leg into his mouth, he carefully observed the bounty hunter's reaction.

The human hacker stared wide-eyed; most people have the same expression when they see him eating.

At least he maintained the respect that was due.

"who are you?"

Jabba muttered, letting TC-70 translate.

“I am Geb, Lord Jabba,” the hacker said, bowing. “This is TK – oh.”

“Report your findings,” Jabba said casually.

“Uh—” The boy looked at the Jedi curiously, “—We tracked your son to the planet Teth, Lord Jabba.”

Jabba gripped every piece of information tightly.

With each passing minute, his worry for his son deepened.

Are you alright, Rota?
Are you scared? Are you hungry? Are you still alive?
Can these passersby understand his concerns?

They can understand when you've lived for a thousand years, when your only child is yourself.

Your own flesh and blood, because the Hutts can reproduce without a partner.

Unlike their races that reproduce rapidly and can multiply endlessly, so your child is your entire future? He doubted it.

These beings are so short-lived that they cannot transcend their current lives to view problems.

“I paid more than this intelligence,” Jabba roared. “How did you find out?”

“Thank you for your generosity in allowing us to access the air traffic control records, sir,” Geb hurriedly said. “We checked all flights that departed from Tatooine at the scheduled time, and... we also hacked into all outbound communication connections with the HoloNet transceivers for the entire day’s journey. We discovered a ship requesting access to the Galactic All Species Self-Service Database.”

The hacker licked his lips, carefully choosing his words, "TK over here, he checked an information request about the health and diseases of the Hutts."

The implication sent a chill down Jabba's spine.

“The Hutts don’t get sick—” If they do get sick occasionally, it must be something serious, “—why are they investigating there?”

“Well, how many people know how to take care of a Hutt baby?” Geb shrugged. “You kidnapped a baby of another species. Since it was a kidnapping rather than an assassination, you definitely want the baby to live and be healthy, right? So you need to look into the normal and abnormal conditions of Hutt babies—for example, the various things that Hutt babies might encounter, such as illness.”

If this weren't a time for worry, Jabba would have already thrown a tantrum.

The Hutts do not get sick.

Viruses, infections—most poisons have no effect on them.

The same goes for babies.

There must be a big problem.

"You think my son is sick?" Jabba's voice was full of anger, no need for pretense.

TK-0 calmly summarized the report: "On the day your son was kidnapped, someone on a ship leaving Tatooine accessed the Galactic All-Species Self-Help Database and downloaded documents about Hutt physiology and diseases. That ship was traced to Teth."

Jabba gestured for TC-70 to pay them, then closed his eyes.

He didn't see them leave.

The worst thoughts flashed through his mind, and fear filled his stomach like a rotten dinner.

Those scum who kidnapped Rota can't even do this right!

Now Rota is sick and alone on a remote planet, surrounded by Jabba's enemies.

Only Jabba's enemies would dare to offend him in this way.

“Lord Jaba,” Luminara Anduli’s gentle voice roused him from his nightmare, “we will bring your son back to you.”

“You must find Rota and bring him back to me alive and unharmed,” Jabba corrected. “If the Republic wants to pass through my hyperspace route, you’ll also have to bring me the scum who kidnapped my son.”

How many people know how to care for a baby like Hutt?
The bounty hunter's words echoed in his mind.

There must be a reason why the kidnappers risked being tracked to access the Galaxy All-Species Self-Service Database.

A very serious reason.

“You have one planetary rotation cycle to bring Rota back to me,” Jabba added, “one Tatooine rotation cycle. If you can’t do it, then Count Dooku and his army of robots will.”

He gestured to TC-70 to translate his words into a language the Jedi could understand.

Andoli raised one eyebrow slightly at his demanding requirements, maintaining his perfect image of perseverance, his expression as calm as a still lake.

Her apprentice, however, was not so calm.

Her eyes widened instantly—a clear gesture that let Jabba know what she thought of his request.

Anduli turned his head and stared intently at him. "Do you want the kidnappers to be brought before you dead or alive, Lord Jabba?"

“Anything is fine,” he roared, “but I’d prefer them alive… so I can kill them with my own hands.”

“Very well,” she said, her already flat lips pressing even thinner. “We will manage. Please excuse us.”

She deserves the praise she deserves, and she remained remarkably calm and composed.

Unlike Palpatine, this woman neither feigned servility nor fawned over him—she was able to be both respectful and unafraid.

In reality, she didn't show any emotion.

She should really teach her apprentices this more.

“You had better do it,” Jabba warned finally, “or you’ll lose your heads too.”

He means it.

(End of this chapter)