A few hours ago, in a far-off center of the Galaxy. Darth Sidious POV
Darkness. A shallow cone of blue light. The cowl hid everything but a mouth that never wasted words.
The holo field flickered and resolved into bulk of Jabba Da Hutt. A Twi'lek hovered in the edge of the frame, head bowed, ready to translate.
"Jaba the Hutt" he said. Even, unreadable. "You will listen."
Jabba's belly rolled with a laugh. "Bo shuda."
The Twi'lek translated smoothly, "My master greets you. Speak."
"A spy on my payroll has informed me of something interesting" Sidious said. "Count Dooku of Serenno is on bound to your world."
A slow blink from the Hutt. "Ho ho… moshuta ke chu."
"Many ships comes to this world," the Twi'lek supplied. "Nobles are more common then you think."
"This noble is of great interest to me," Sidious said. "I want the reason. Why he would come there. Why he risks your territory at all."
Jabba's eyes turned to wet stones. "Kee chai kuta?"
"What are you willing to pay?" the Twi'lek translated.
"You will be compensated," Sidious replied. "Once i am given the answer."
The Hutt's tail thumped once, deliberate. "Bargon u no shay."
"He prefers… certainty," the Twi'lek said carefully.
"Then earn it." Sidious never raised his voice. "Bring him to you. I do not care how. Invitation, threaten, bribe, lie. I want the why and I want it quickly."
Jabba's mouth pulled wide. "Boska. Jeeska."
"He can do that," the Twi'lek nodded. "He will extend… his hospitality."
Jabba's laughter was warm and empty. "Ho ho ho… peedunky."
Jabba's nostrils flared. "Coona tee-tocky malia?"
"What of… witnesses?" the Twi'lek asked.
"Dead ones don't talk," Sidious said. "Neither do rich ones if they're paid enough. Choose whichever is to your pleasure."
The Hutt's gaze slid offscreen giving orders then turned back. "Bargon wan chee kenza ke?"
"A bargain, then?" the Twi'lek offered.
"You deliver why, I deliver something you need," Sidious said. "Fuel, manifests, clearances. Doors that open for you. Doors that close for your rivals."
A thin line of drool caught firelight along Jabba's lip. He regarded the hood. "Kee patogga… da che ho?"
"My master asks: why this count?" the Twi'lek translated. "You do not usually… notice nobles."
"I notice movement," Sidious said. "A Core noble with a past in the jedi, and a reason to crosses half the Galaxy to stand in your system? The why is worth buying."
Jabba considered that, tail twitching. "Choy?"
"When?" the Twi'lek asked.
"Now," Sidious said. "The ship will be reaching your world soon enough. Have someone tail him."
The Hutt's chuckle was quieter. "Mee jewz ju."
"He understands," the Twi'lek said. "But asks… terms. If the count resists?"
Sidious didn't blink. "He wont, not with his daughter with him. Just. Get. The. Why."
Jabba's eyes narrowed with approval at the simplicity. "Ho ho… boska."
"He accepts."
"Good." Sidious let that sit. "I expect a satisfying answer."
The Twi'lek swallowed. "Understood."
Jabba's smile went flat and businesslike. "Tee baha ne chuba."
"My master says: you will have your answer," the Twi'lek said.
The holo crackled to black.
---
Silence pressed in, besides the steady pace of his own breath. He lifted two fingers. A shadow moved to one knee beyond the cowl's edge,lithe, pale, eyes bright with hunger held on a leash. Darth Vosa.
"Status," Sidious said.
"The cults that stand against you have been dealt with" she answered. "Three cells have been brought under heel."
"Good. They are noisy but useful."
Vosa inclined her head. Her mouth curved with something like admiration. "Shall I shadow the desert?"
"No." He did not have to think about it. "Jabba's palace will suffice."
She absorbed that with swift obedience. "As you wish."
"If the answer is work for the Jedi, we move one way to remove him," he said.
Vosa's chin dipped. "And if the count dies?"
" If a corpse is the fastest route to why, fine."
"Yes, my master."
He let the quiet stretch just long enough to sharpen her focus. "Report again once you have finished bringing those other cults to heel."
Vosa stood, bowed, and was gone. Sidious lowered his hand. He did not care who Dooku dragged with him, all collateral unless they proved to be useful.
Back to the present.....
Jabba was much larger in person then the fills gave him credit for. A Gamorrean rested near his feet, a Twi'lek dancer spinning lazy figure-eights while a Weequay counted chips with two fingers and a thumb. Their outfits were… hardly clothes. Thread and metal that caught the light in angles. I stared longer than I meant to—at the way one dancer's belt hooked, how the cloth didn't hide the line of her hip so much as underline it. Shapes and rhythm. People watching them the way men watch a trophy they can't afford. It made something in me sit up, curious and quiet.
A Twi'lek with sharp teeth slid forward from the shadow of the dais. His lekku twitched like punctuation.
"Bo shuda," Jabba rumbled.
The Twi'lek smiled for him. "My master greets you."
Father didn't speak. He inclined his head just enough. Jabba let the silence stretch for a bit.
A Nikto stepped and tripped to tap my helment but Father grabbed his hand before it could reach me. And forced his hand away.
"Jee otoh," Jabba said, amused.
"The Lord requests the courtesy of faces," the Twi'lek translated, sweet as syrup.
Father lifted his helmet off first. He did it slow. Silver hair, calm eyes. The court's attention sharpened a little. I unlatched mine and the air touched my skin.
Jabba's tongue flashed and vanished. "Ho ho… peedunky."
"My master appreciates honesty," the Twi'lek purred.
Father finally spoke. "On that we can agree." His voice was even. "I hope this remains… polite."
Jabba's laugh rolled. "Boska." A lazy word, like calling a dog and tossing it a bone.
"Polite," the Twi'lek echoed, smiling a smile that didn't belong to him. "As we are being now."
I kept my eyes low, the way Father told me to, Look without staring. Count exits without turning your head. The exits here were obvious and useless. Jabba owned the doors, the floor, and every set of boots between us and outside.
Jabba said something longer this time, the syllables thick and wet. "Bargon u no shay… kee chai kuta… choy?"
The Twi'lek spread his hands. "My master wonders what blows a Core wind into his halls. Commerce? Pilgrimage? Trouble? And he wonders…."
Father didn't blink. "Your halls are impressive."
"Ho ho ho," Jabba liked that word. It meant nothing, or everything.
Father tilted his head a little. "I received your invitation. I thought it would be rude not to accept."
"Invitation," the Twi'lek repeated, savoring it. "My master keeps a careful city. When careful men arrive with heavy purses, he is… curious."
"Curiosity is one of civilization's better sins," Father said.
"My master prefers profits," the Twi'lek said, not missing the beat. A servant set a tray down with cups that smelled like fruit. A Gamorrean shifted. The dancer's anklet chimed as she spun and dipped; the strip of blue silk across her chest pulled taut and then fell back. I didn't mean to follow the line it made. I did anyway. Wonder how it stayed where it did during the turns. Practical question. Probably pins, glue or passy's.
Jabba's eyes slid to Shmi. "Coona tee-tocky malia?"
The Twi'lek didn't look at Shmi when he said it. "My master asks about your purchase. It was… unexpected."
"Expected is not always a choice," Father said.
The Twi'lek's smile didn't move. "On this world, the unexpected, doesnt always end well."
Shmi kept her mouth closed, eyes on the floor. Father's hand brushed my shoulder.
"It wont be of concernto someone of such high Status," Father said.
Jabba purred, low. "Jeeska."
"He appreciates your concern but all things on this planet are his business," the Twi'lek said. "He also appreciates being appreciated. You walked in without even greeting him first, It is a novelty. He is deciding whether he enjoys it."
Father allowed himself the smallest smile. "Novelty keeps things interesting. Wouldn't you agree."
"My master wonders if we are discussing business."
Father looked past the Twi'lek to the Hutt himself. "Whatever word makes this easier."
The Twi'lek bowed a sliver. "Business, then. You have come to Tatooine. Why?"
The court went quiet for that single word. The dancer's anklet missed a beat. Someone's dice clacked two tables away and stopped. Everyone leaned in without moving.
Father's eyes were calm water. "Sunlight," he said. "It's good for the bones."
Jabba's laugh was slow. "Moshuta kee chuba."
"He hears jokes all day," the Twi'lek translated, bored. "He is hard to impress."
"I didn't come to impress," Father said.
The Twi'lek shrugged, almost apologetic. "Then perhaps you came to say something. Men who don't come to impress or to sell usually come to say something."
"Do you want me to say something?" Father said, as if it would be a favor to the room.
"My master wants to know why you are here," the Twi'lek said plainly now, the circling brought in tight for a moment. "He will be… generous with his kindness if he is given one."
Father let silence answer for a breath. "Your city is generous with information," he said. "I assume if there was something interesting to report about my reasons, you would already known."
The Twi'lek showed all his teeth this time. "Perhaps. But sometimes, it i best to get that informationfrom the source."
"Regrettable i have nothing to share," Father said.
They kept talking around in the circles. The Hutt liked watching people sweat in under his pressure but Father wasn't one to sweat. I might have, under the collar. Jabba's tail thumped once, a soft drum. "Tee baha ne chuba."
"Hospitality," the Twi'lek said, tone brightening like a light being turned up. "My master offers it. You will rest. He will think. In the morning, perhaps you will be inspired to think with him. There will be food, drink, music. Hopefully you become… more honest after a night."
A Nikto moved, barely. The angle of his pike shifted just enough to tell me that no one was walking back out those doors today.
Father inclined his head again, as if he'd asked for this exact kindness. "I thank you for your care."
"Always," the Twi'lek said, pleased to have found a word that fit everything.
Jabba said something I didn't understand but did feel. It was the same thing people say with a look when they pat the dog and then put the leash on. The Twi'lek lifted his hands like a conductor.
"Rooms," he announced. "For the count. For the child. For the woman. Clean bedding. And the kitchen will send something that should be up to your tastes "
Shmi's hands tightened on her bundle. Father looked at me and the look that said , dont talk. I nodded. The dancer caught me one last time as we turned. She gave the smallest look of pity. Or maybe I imagined that.
We followed a Nikto through a corridor that swallowed the audience noise and traded it for the hum of machinery and the soft, bored arguments of servants. After walking for a while, A door opened, then another. Someone set a tray down in front of me, flatbread, spiced something, a bowl of water so clear it looked like glass pretending to be full.
Father checked the corners like rooms had teeth. Satisfied, he took the seat by the door.
"Water will be enough, take back the spiced drink," he said, without meaning it.
"Ho ho," came faintly from the hall, like the palace itself laughing.
I set my helmet on the table. The imprint of the strap was still on my cheek. Shmi sat on the edge of the bed while she brushed her hair back and exhaled into her hands.
We were guests. That was the word. I knew the other word too. Father poured water into three cups, evenly. He passed them out. The cups looked too small in his hands. He looked at me over the rim of his.
"Rest," he said.
I nodded. I didn't id be able to though.
Somewhere down the hall, the court found a new reason to laugh. It sounded the same as the old one.
[[Sorry this took so long was stuck on the question, why, lol]]