Chapter 6 - Jabba's Tribute

(Edited)

(A/N: I shall be going back and correcting/ editing my previous chapters. As I did rush them out so I could let's this Idea out of my head)

Chapter 6 – The Hutt's Tribute

- Merek Skywalker -

Jabba's palace loomed in the distance—a colossal, sand-worn fortress standing defiantly against Tatooine's relentless heat.

Most saw it as an impenetrable stronghold, a den of power and excess.I only saw an empire built on fear and slavery.

My speeder slowed as we neared the massive front gates. Vantoo sat beside me, silent but alert, while Krawwn took the back seat, his giant form making the speeder look almost comically small.

I had expected him to refuse to come. He owed me, not Jabba. But when I told him of the meeting, he rumbled something about debt and honor and insisted on accompanying me.

I didn't argue.

The Gamorrean guards blocking the entrance snorted and hefted their axes. Their pig-like faces twisted in confusion as they stared up at Krawwn, but I spoke first.

"Merek Skywalker, here to see Jabba the Hutt."

One of them grunted and pressed a button on his wrist device. The gate groaned open.

"Boss will see ya," the other one snorted.

I exchanged a glance with Vantoo. "That was easy."

"Too easy," he muttered.

I sighed. They were expecting us.

The palace interior was just as I remembered from the holovids—dark, humid, and stinking of spice and rot. Laughter, music, and the occasional scream echoed through the corridors.

We were led into the main throne room.

Jabba lounged on his dais, his grotesque bulk spilling over the edges of his throne. The stench the stench that cling to him made my stomach roll.

To his right sat Bib Fortuna, his pale, twisted majordomo, whispering in Huttese.

Around the room, an assortment of bounty hunters, mercenaries, and sycophants watched us enter, their expressions ranging from amusement to mild interest.

Jabba's enormous yellow eyes fixed on me.

"Ho ho ho... Young Skywalker." His voice was a deep, wet rumble, every word slithering through the air like a predator testing its prey.

"Great and mighty Jabba," I greeted, bowing slightly but not lowering my gaze. "I bring tribute."

I gestured, and Vantoo tossed a heavy credit pouch onto the floor.

Jabba barely glanced at it.

"Hmmm... Tribute? From a mere child?" His fat tongue flicked out, tasting the air. "Shunn-Vos knew his place. You, I do not know."

The room fell silent.

This was a test.

I could grovel, proving I was nothing more than a replacement for Shunn-Vos, a weak crime boss desperate to please him.

Or I could show my worth.

I took a step forward. "Shunn-Vos was useful, but he was a blunt instrument. A tool that outlived its purpose. I am not him."

Jabba's slitted pupils narrowed.

"You claim to be better?"

I smiled. "More profitable and I bring a gift"

There was a moment of tense silence. Then, Jabba's massive belly shook with deep laughter.

"Ho ho ho ho... bold, young Skywalker. Very bold." He leaned forward slightly, amusement flickering in his gaze. "And tell me, what use are you to Jabba the Hutt?"

I let the silence stretch before answering.

"I control Mos Espa. The mayor listens to me. I can ensure your tribute is never late, never light. More than that, I can expand your profits—cleaner spice routes, stronger influence in the Outer Rim."

I gestured to Krawwn, who stood beside me, towering over the room. "I even bring you warriors who do not kneel to slugs, and yet here he stands beside me."

The room shifted. Eyes flicked between me and Jabba, gauging his reaction.

Jabba let out another guttural chuckle.

"Impressive. Most impressive." His thick fingers drummed against his armrest. "Show me your gift Skywalker"

I look to Krawwn who lowered the bag from his back, taking it I pull out what people from Earth would consider a Vape. This one just being bigger and more powerful to suit being used by Jabba.

But for now I'd have to refer to it as a hookah pipe. "I've heard how you've grown fond of Hookah Pipes so I built one specifically for you"

"Oh"

I can tell I've gotten his interest, "It's smaller but much more powerful and flavourful. It also has 40 flavours for you too enjoy"

"Bring it to me" Jabba commands, the nearest Gamorrean goes to take it.

"This is pipe part" I tell the pig face being, before looking to Jabba, "It is solar powered so it won't die on you and I personally will provide new liquid if you have run out Great Jabba"

I watched Jabba inhale and then exhale before taking another hit. "Ho ho.. very good Skywalker"

Gotcha. Staying in Jabba's good graces for the next couple of years are very important for my future plans.

"If that is all Great Jabba I shall take my leave" I say but make no motion to leave just yet.

"Hmm... There is something young Skywalker" Jabba takes another hit before continuing.

"A certain merchant has refused to pay his dues. He thinks he is safe in his fortress outside Mos Espa." Jabba's eyes gleamed. "Deal with him."

I resisted to sigh, I knew something like this would happen. "Consider it done," I said, turning to leave.

"One more thing..."

I stopped.

"Bring me his head."

The court erupted into laughter.

I simply nodded with a small smile. "As you wish, mighty Jabba."

I turned and walked away, Vantoo at my side. Krawwn hesitated a moment longer, glaring at Jabba, before following.

The moment we were out of earshot, Vantoo sighed.

"This could be a trap"

"Of course," I muttered. "It might just be."

We stepped into the speeder, the twin suns of Tatooine already beginning their descent.

Krawwn crossed his arms. "You are going to kill this merchant?"

I smirked. "I never said that."

The Wookiee let out a deep, amused rumble.

Vantoo gave me a sidelong glance. "You have a plan?"

I looked back at Jabba's fortress in the distance.

"I always do."

__________________________________

We arrived back at my workshop, where I spread out an old datapad and pulled up a holo-map of Mos Espa's outskirts.

The merchant's name was Bol Kelro, a wealthy spice trader who had been holding back his tribute. His "fortress" was more of a reinforced estate—thick walls, turrets, and a few hired guards.

"Heavy defenses for a merchant," Vantoo observed, arms crossed.

Krawwn rumbled in agreement.

I leaned back. "He's smart. He knows Jabba's patience is thin, so he's either preparing for war… or he thinks he has a way out."

Vantoo tapped the screen. "Then why not kill him? Clean, simple, gets Jabba off your back."

I smirked. "Because there's always another way."

Vantoo sighed. "I knew you were going to say that." He's gotten used that I'm not exactly normal compared to most crimebosses.

It didn't take too long for me to create a solid plan.

A full assault was out of the question. Even with my 31 soldiers, taking the estate by force would cost too many lives.

Instead, I needed to make Bol come to me.

That meant fear.

I glanced at Krawwn. "How do Wookiees deal with cowards?"

He bared his fangs. "Make them think the walls around them will not protect them."

I grinned. "Exactly."

____________________________________

We moved under the cover of night.

The desert was deathly silent, the only sounds the occasional wind sweeping across the dunes.

I had seven of my best men with me—stealthy, disciplined, and smart.

We did not attack. We haunted the perimeter.

Sabotaged power lines.

Disabled turrets.

Left slavers' bodies from another gang just outside the walls, making it look like rival syndicates were moving in.

By dawn, Bol's estate was in chaos. His guards were nervous, and his workers were already considering running.

Perfect.

~~~~~

Our next attack wasn't actually an attack. That afternoon, I had Vantoo delivered a message to Bol.

A warning.

I sent it under the name Shunn-Vos.

"You should have paid your tribute. I'm taking what I'm owed. Tonight."

By the time the sun began to set, Bol was desperate. He had two choices — wait in his "fortress" and pray his defenses held, or run.

He chose the latter.

~~~~

Vantoo's sources confirmed what I already knew — Bol was heading to Jabba's palace, hoping to negotiate.

That was my moment. Before he arrived, I intercepted him.

My speeder slid into place across his path, kicking up dust. His transport skidded to a halt, and his guards raised their blasters before they even realized who I was.

I stepped out alone. Bol's eyes widened in horror. "Skywalker?"

I smiled. "Going somewhere, Bol?"

His guards hesitated. They knew my reputation, knew that I'd wiped out two crime bosses in the last month.

Bol swallowed. "You… You work for Jabba now. You don't need to do this!"

I took slow steps forward. "You think Jabba cares if it's me or Shunn-Vos who buries you?"

He paled.

"You have two options," I continued, voice calm. "You can keep running to Jabba, tell him you fled your own estate because you were too weak to hold it…"

I let the words sink in. Jabba hated weakness.

"…Or, you pay what you owe."

Bol's face twisted in realization. This wasn't about money. This was about who held power.

"Not to Jabba," he muttered.

I nodded. "To me."

His breath came fast. He was weighing death by my hands or betraying Jabba.Finally, he lowered his head.

"Fine," he spat. "The tribute is yours."

______________________

When I returned to Jabba, I did not bring Bol's head. Ibrought his tribute.

Jabba's massive yellow eyes studied me as I stood before his throne, the heavy pouch of credits resting at my feet.

"You defied my order, young Skywalker," he rumbled, voice thick with amusement. "Yet you bring me my money."

I shrugged. "Dead men pay no tributeMighty Jabba. Bol serves me now, and I serve you. His profits will flow through me. That means more credits for you, and a more… efficient system."

Jabba's deep belly laugh shook the room.

"Ho ho ho ho… you are not like the others."

He waved a thick hand. "Very well. I accept this tribute."

I bowed my head slightly.

"But remember this, Skywalker…" Jabba's smile widened, his voice thick with warning. "You play the game well, but in my palace, I am still the master."

I smiled before leave, For now Jabba, For now.

~End