Jabba Desilijic Tiure, known more simply as 'Jabba the Hutt' or 'the Mighty Jabba', was an unusual Hutt. Oh, not on the surface, not to the casual observer. His appetite might have been a bit larger, his perversions more overt, but to the average outsider Jabba looked and acted much like any other Hutt.
This was, of course, by design. Other species had expectations of Hutts, and Jabba was more than happy to play into them. Not that Jabba wasn't interested in humanoid women. He kept slaves because he enjoyed having slaves, because he enjoyed watching and touching them. But he would have given his possession of them a second thought if they hadn't aided so well in his masquerade.
What the casual observer didn't know, what all but the most elder of beings had forgotten, was that once upon a time Jabba had not been a clan leader and a gangster. Half a lifetime ago, literally, he'd once been a Jedi Master. Master Jabba, raised from his infancy in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, contemporary and friend of Master Yoda, a well recognized champion of the Order. For three hundred years he lived, learned, and fought as a Jedi, at the height of the Old Republic. After the few remaining Sith had slinked back into the shadows to lick their wounds and plot, and the worst the Republic had to deal with were pirates and internal strife.
For three hundred years Jabba had learned from and served the Order, had guarded the Republic. He'd earned the title of Master, even if he'd never sat on the Council. Yoda had joked that it was because at full size Jabba would take up half the Council Chambers, and perhaps there was some truth to that. Not the full truth, but some.
Then one day, after brokering peace between two factions on some planet (Jabba couldn't even recall what planet, let alone what the two sides had been fighting over) he'd been met by an emissary of the Desilijic Clan. They'd given him up to the Jedi for training, but now they needed him back, required his aid. The Clan was in a bad way. Indeed, all the clans were, the result of an almost impressively organized alliance of pirates deciding to get ambitious.
Jabba had mulled over the request for some days, meditating and considering, then eventually chose to leave the Order. It was a time of galactic peace, and neither the Republic nor the Order needed him. His Clan, however, did. And so he left. He left the Order behind, and took the job of saving his Clan.
And save it he did. They were thriving, and while it was a challenge to fight with his wits and subtle, judicious, use of the Force rather than more overt means, it was a challenge that he relished. He had become the Daimyo of Tatooine with one metaphorical hand behind his back, driving out of suborning older, more established Hutts.
He had felt tempted, sorely, to aid Yoda in the Clone Wars, but the realization that one Jedi Master, particularly one who hadn't touched a lightsaber in three hundred years, would not turn the tide had won out. So he had helped with power and wealth, as much as he could afford to, and buried everything in logic. He had a Clan and a son to look out for after all.
This was born out when the Clone Wars came to an abrupt and brutal end. Jabba had never abandoned the Force, had spent years reaffirming his connection to it, mastering the use of it beyond telekinesis and strengthening his own body. The wave of death and Dark glee that the purge of the Order brought had nearly bowled him over, and made him bitterly glad he had left when he had. His actions as Jabba the Hutt had led the Order to purge all records of him, to distance the Order from his actions. It had been three centuries since he left, and it seemed that the Sith behind all this had forgotten him too. Jabba suppressed his presence in the Force as much as possible, and Vader was either too much of a whirling storm of emotions to notice on his infrequent visits, or a true Sith and willing to leave rivals to his Master on the table.
Hutt power ruled the Outer Rim, if diminished in some ways. The Empire allowed slavery and was as happy to exchange a blind eye for bribes as always when it came to spice. But they were worse about arms and allowing Hutt government than their predecessors. It was a precarious position. To an extent the Hutts still controlled what had once been known as Hutt space, but the Empire could overthrow them. It would require them to overextend themselves, leaving them vulnerable to the ever growing Rebellion (among other factions), but they could accomplish it.
The knowledge rankled Jabba, an irritant he couldn't escape. Perhaps that was why, when Luke Skywalker (and wasn't that name an interesting reminder of grander days) arrived at his palace, Jabba paid him more than the cursory attention he gave to most arrivals in his palace. The fools he was surrounded with thought him asleep (aside, perhaps, from Boba Fett) but in truth he merely meditated. It allowed him rest and rejuvenation, but more importantly it also allowed him to listen and feel. A Master of the Force like him could feel quite a lot, particularly on a planet like this.
And Luke Skywalker blazed in the Force. It was then that Jabba realized three fundamental truths at the exact same time.
Number One. Skywalker was confident and more trained than he would have expected. One did not get to be his age, did not attain the rank of Master, without knowing what it felt like when someone that powerful was trained, rather than going off of instinct.
That posed a problem. Jabba thought that he could likely still win a confrontation, but he would need to act directly, to call the Force to his aid openly. And he was not so arrogant as to believe that he'd been one hundred percent successful in keeping the eyes of the Empire out of his palace. To crush young Skywalker would be to reveal himself to the Sith. Moreover…there was another realization.
Number Two. Luke Skywalker had a presence in the Force that felt distressingly familiar. Warmer and more at peace than that of Vader, less restrained and more uncertain than Anakin Skywalker, but undeniably of them both all the same. It could be a coincidence, but he doubted it. The Force was a deliberate thing. There was no such thing as a coincidence of that sort. Which meant that if he killed the boy, then when Vader came for him it would be personal. And in addition, history had made it clear that betting against a Skywalker's survival was unwise.
And Number Three. There was a storm coming. The Force felt like it had in the days immediately before the start of the Clone Wars. There was change on the horizon, and it centered on the boy…the Jedi, Bib Fortuna was bringing to him now. The Force would not necessarily bend fate and chance in the young man's favor, but he heralded the possibility of change. The Empire only offered stagnation, at least until Palpatine's death. With Tarkin and Thrawn gone, there was no obvious choice for the throne. Wars of succession offered benefits and opportunity, but were not ideal. A clear move from the Empire to a new Republic could be very beneficial.
Admittedly, his pride told him otherwise, told him to fight and resist. He had every right to do what he had done. But he listened to the Force, and it whispered to him. He got the distinct impression of two roads. One that led to grand success, and the other to his death. Soon.
And so when Bib Fortuna prods him 'awake' Jabba already knows what he must do. But of course, he can't just immediately agree. He has appearances to maintain, a reputation to consider. And on top of that, the young Skywalker has the audacity, the foolishness, to demand Solo and his friends. After attempting to use the Force to just make Jabba give them over.
He laughs and inclines his head to the young Jedi. "Very well Skywalker. If you want Solo and his friends, then we will bargain." He can feel Skywalker's surprise in the Force, and resists a laugh and a taunt. Best not to let the young man know what he knows. Instead he names a figure, half again the combined worth of Solo and Chewbacca's bounties. Skywalker raises an eyebrow, unimpressed with his offer, and Jabba chuckles. "I will not accept a refund Skywalker. If you want your friends back, I will profit from it, as you said. I already paid for Solo and the Wookie to be delivered to me. In addition, this one…" he tugs on Leia's leash, pressing her back against his slimy belly with relish, "insulted me greatly. Payment must be made if she is to be set free."
"The one you paid for Chewbacca never managed to deposit the payment." Skywalker points out calmly, gesturing at the Princess. Jabba inclined his head. "And surely she has made recompense already, given her circumstances." Jabba was almost impressed. Despite his name, Skywalker negotiates far more like Kenobi than the man Jabba is fairly certain was his father.
"She snuck into my palace on false pretenses, shot guests of my court and attacked others, threatened me with a thermal detonator, destroyed a unique piece of art, and attempted to conduct a prison break." Jabba rattled off Leia's crimes against him, raising a brow at Skywalker as he did so. The young man did an impressive job of keeping his face a calm mask, but Jabba was amused to feel a deep amount of exasperation rolling off of him. He had suspected that the Princess had gone off script, her actions contrasted too strongly with the message brought by the droids, and it was nice to have it confirmed. "Two nights a slave is not nearly enough of a price. I could get what I'm asking for the lot of them easily just by selling her on Nal Hutta, a fate she richly deserves for her actions." Skywalker inclines his head, unable to argue that the last Princess of Alderaan was not a valuable commodity amongst slavers, or that Leia hadn't broken many laws of Hutt Space.
The negotiations went on from there, spiraling from money to offers of favors and markers. Skywalker was clever, if inexperienced, but polite. It was refreshing to bargain with someone in good faith for once. Not that he'd ever say such a thing, but after centuries of backstabbing and traps, it was a pleasant change to be simply haggling.
Jabba let the Force guide him in making offers of favors, agreeing to sell the droids back to Skywalker, making every show of driving a hard bargain. He was walking into this knowing that he would give Skywalker everything the young man wanted, but had to make sure that neither Skywalker nor the court noticed that. Skywalker seemed a little puzzled, but wasn't going to look a gift ronto in the mouth.
Seven hours after Skywalker had entered his palace the young Jedi left, taking with him a relieved Wookie, a grumbling Solo, a humiliated and still scantily clad princess (Jabba had insisted on it, as a further lesson and jab at the young woman), and two droids. It took Jabba another hour to notice that not only had one of his new human guards disappeared, but so had Arica, the redheaded young human woman he'd acquired as a slave shortly before this whole affair began. That was…interesting, and pointed at more resourcefulness than he'd expected from Skywalker. Though there was something about Arica, a whisper from the Force that there was more there than he was noticing. Something to puzzle over later he supposed, for there was work to be done.
A new protocol droid would need to be acquired, as would a new girl to adorn his throne. Perhaps a Zabrak, it had been many decades since he'd had one of them. But those were things that could be acquired in due course. He had more pressing matters to attend to. Instead he slithered off to his private chambers, leaving the throne room behind.
He fired off a series of messages to the other members of the Hutt Grand Council and waited. The first to answer was the oldest, Marlo, followed shortly by the others. Marlo raised a brow and looked at him curiously. "Jabba my boy. For what reason do you have to call us together, so unexpectedly and with such security?" Indeed, Jabba's messages had been quite clear in his demand for the strictest of firewalls, the highest security the Council could muster.
"I have felt a storm boiling in the Force."Jabba responded. This was met with murmurs and rumblings, but none of the skepticism so common in other parts of the galaxy to pronouncements like this. These were eldest Hutts, powerful and old, all of whom remembered when Jabba had been a Master of the Jedi Order. "A new Jedi has arrived, powerful and trained properly. He is set against the Empire, and I do believe he'll win."
That caused some skepticism. "The Empire defeated the Jedi once, quite handily." Marlo pointed out calmly.
"A surprise attack to a complacent, bloated, and tired beast." Jabba said dismissively. "Sheev Palpatine is old and arrogant. Powerful, yes, cunning, certainly, but one need only look at how he rules, his fondness for grandness, to know that the man is ruled by his ego. And I have reason to believe that Vader will ultimately side with Skywalker." No need to risk a leak as to why he thought that.
The Council thought on that for a moment. Jabba had earned his role, and was not overly frequent with his pronouncements and claims of insight. When he said something, he meant that thing, at least to them. He had earned and maintained their trust in his powers with the Force. It was not blind trust, let alone obedience, but it was enough. "What would you have us do?"
"Prepare for chaos. On a galactic level, not seen in centuries." The Clone Wars and the transition from Republic to Empire had been tumultuous, but in hindsight orchestrated and prepared for. This, this would not be. Not truly. "Ready what forces you have, hire what mercenaries you can without suspicion being raised. And then hire spies. We need to know where the Pykes are weakest, and which Imperial strongholds in the Outer Rim are weakest. Drydocks and armories especially, but garrisons are well. And not just weakest structurally or defensively. We will want to seek out the weak willed and unprepared, the places where leadership was assigned based on nepotism or politicking rather than skill." Jabba idly took a pull from his hookah, closing his eyes for a moment.
"You expect Palpatine to die, and chaos to reign." Marlo said shrewdly, and Jabba nodded.
"And with it, a prime opportunity to establish ourselves once more. To prevent any Imperial zealots from gaining too strong of a foothold, and perhaps to cripple the Pykes." He explained. "Though the primary focus should be adding Imperial arms and resources to our own. Depending on the circumstances, we may even be able to convince some garrisons to go mercenary. It's not as though they'll have many options for work." That got a round of laughter from his fellow Council members, and Jabba gave a sly smile while he waited for this to subside. "Are we in agreement?" He asked calmly.
The Council members looked at each other, one by one, and then nodded in near unison. "Excellent. To a new Hutt Empire then, to a new Hutt Empire."