Star Wars - The Han Solo Trilogy - Hutt Gambit, page 12
The third night he spent time with her, Xaverri gave him a quick kiss at the door to her room, before vanishing in-side. Han went home smiling.
When he got ready to go out late the next night, Chewbacca rose to accompany him. Han held up a warning hand to the Wookiee. Chewie, old buddy, you dont have to cme with me tonight.
Chewbacca made a derisive sound. Han would get into trouble without him, he just knew it.
Han smiled, a slow, irresistible smile. Yep. Thats what Im hopin, pal. Im goin alone tonight. See you later. Much later-I hope.
Smiling and whistling the beginning notes from Xaverris opening number, Hah left his apartment and headed for The Chance Castle.
When he waited outside the door this night, Xaverri emerged, wearin g a simple black and scarlet jumpsuit that set off her hair and skin. She looked pleased to see him, but glanced around, obviously searching for Chewbaeca. Wheres Chewie?
Han took her arm. He stayed home tonight. Tonight its just you and me, babe. If thats okay.
She looked at him, trying to look stem, then suddenly she smiled at him knowingly. Solo, youre a rogue, you know that?
He smiled back. Im glad you noticed. That means Im your kind of guy, right?
She shook her head. You never know.
They went to one of the Hutt-owned casinos, and thanks to Hans privileged status as Jabba and Jiliacs pilot, they were given special treatment-free drinks, admission to special high-stakes games, plus good seats at the shows.
It was late before they left, and true night still reigned over this section of Nar Shaddaa. Han walked Xaverri back to her hotel. She asked him how hed become partners with Chewie, and he found himself telling her about his time as an officer in the Imperial Navy.
And so, after they threw me out, he finished, I found that I couldnt get honest work as a pilot. I was blacklisted. I didnt know where my next meal was coming from. But even though I got mad and ordered Chewie to go, he wouldnt. Said a life debt is the most serious obligation a Wookiee can have. Even takes precedence over family ties. He glanced at Xaverri. Does that bother you that I was an Imperial officer? I know you hate the Empire.
She shook her head. No, it doesnt bother me. You didnt stay in long enough to get corrupted. For that, you should give thanks to whatever gods you believe in.
Han shrugged. Im afraid thats a real short list. Not even one entry, he said, keeping it light. What about you?
She glanced at him, and her eyes were haunted. Re-venge is my religion, Solo. Revenge against the Empire for what they did to me . . . and mine.
Hah reached over and took her hand, gripped it strongly. Tell me . . . if you can.
She shook her head. I cant. Ive never told anyone. I will never talk about it. If I did . . . I think it might kill me. I really do, Solo.
The Empire . . . Hah was guessing, they killed your family?
She drew a long breath, nodded, lips tightly pressed to-gether. Husband. Children, she said flatly. Yes. They killed them.
Im sorry, Hah said. I never knew my family. Im not sure I had one. Sometimes, like now, I think that might not be such a bad thing.
Xaverri shook her head. I dont know. You may be right, Solo. All I do know is that I never miss an opportu-nity to hurt them. My work takes me through the galaxy, and, believe me, this is the first engagement Ive had in a long time where I havent spent every free moment figuring out a way to hurt the Empire.
Hah smiled wryly. Thats because there are no Imperi-als here on Nar Shaddaa. Which wasnt quite true, but it might as well be. There was an Imperial Customs office on the Smugglers Moon. The office was staffed by an old man named Dedro Needa_lb, who basically worked for the Hutts. He bore the title of Imperial Customs Inspector, though. He transmitted data about ships and their cargoes to the local Sector Moff, Sam Shild, when he felt like it. No one ever verified whether the data he transmitted were accurate.
Basically, the Hutts had their own arrangements with Sam Shild. They made political contributions and per-sona] gifts to Shild as gratitude for being such a good Imperial rep. Shild, in turn, left the Hutts and their hold-ings pretty much alone.
Each prospered from the arrangement. Like a symbiotic organism, Hah thought.
Exactly, she said. Theres no point in harming old Dedro Needalb. Hurting him would hurt the Hutts and Nar Shaddaa, and it might actually benefit the Empire. Thats the last thing I want.
So how do you hurt themY Han asked, wondering whether she was an assassin. She was an accomplished gymnast and contortionist, and some of her tricks involved weapons such as daggers, sabers, and vibroblades. But he had trouble imagining her in the role of an assassin. Xaverri was smart, very smart. Probably smarter, Hah had to con-cede, than he was. Shed be more likely to use brains rather than weapons in her one-woman vendetta against the Em-pire.
She gave him an enigmatic smile. That would be tell-ing.
Hah shrugged. Hey, I got no love for the Empire my-self. Theyre slavers these days, and I hate slavery. Maybe I could give you a hand sometime. Im pretty good in a fight.
Xaverri regarded him thoughtfully. Ill consider it. Ive been thinking about replacing old Glarret soon. Hes not quick enough anymore to be a good assistant in the act, and he cant pilot. Its hard on me to do all the piloting myself.
Well, lady, let me tell you, Im a first-elass pilot, Hah said with a grin. Matter of fact, Im good at a lot of things.
She rolled her eyes. And modest, too.
By now they had reached the door to Xaverris room. The illusionist looked at Hah for a long level second. Its pretty late, Solo.
He didnt move. Yeah.
She pressed the doorlock with her forefinger and thumb, and it opened silently. Xaverri hesitated for a second, then walked into her room.
Leaving the door open.
Han smiled, and followed her in.
Han awoke after a few hours, and decided to leave Xaverri, who was still deeply asleep, to finish her rest. Qui-etly, he dressed and let himself out of the room, after leav-ing a message on her comlink that hed see her later that day.
It was just after sunrise on Nar Shaddaa, though the activity on the Smugglers Moon had little to do with the unnaturally (to most sentients) long days and nights. Nat Shaddaa was always awake, always active. Hah walked toward home through crowded streets, hearing the cries of the street vendors selling their myriad wares.
Han whistled a few bars of an old Corellian folk song as he walked. He felt great. He hadnt realized how lonely hed been for female companionship. It had been a long time since hed met a woman he really cared for, and Xaverri obviously found him as attractive as he found her. The memory of her kisses still had the power to stir him.
Hah found himself counting the hours until he could see her again, and chuckled to himself, shang his head. Get hold of yourself Solo. Youre no moony-eyed kid anymore, you re-
Without warning, something jabbed him in the right buttock. At first Han thought hed staggered and bumped his rear against a sharp piece of glassinc protruding from the half-ruined building beside him.
Then a rush of strange, tingling warmth engulfed him.
His steps faltered, and his vision blurred, then cleared.
Whats happening?
Steely fingers clamped on to his arm and dragged him into the alley. Han realized, with horror, that he couldnt fight back. His hands wouldnt obey the commands of his brain.
Drugged? Oh, no/
A fiat, inhuman voice spoke to him from just behind his right shoulder. Stand still, Solo.
Hah discovered that he could do nothing else than stand perfectly still. Inwardly he was raging, his anger as hot and explosive as star-plasma, but outwardly his body was com-pletely obedient to that artificially amplified voice. Whos got me? What cbms he want?
Hah concentrated every muscle, every sinew, every neu-ron of his being into moving his hands, his arms, his legs. Sweat gathered on his forehead, trickled down into his eyes. But he couldnt so much as twitch a finger.
The hand left his arm, went down to his thigh to unfas-ten the leather strap that held his blaster secure in its hol-ster. Han could feel the weight against his thigh lighten as his attacker disarmed him. Raging, he tried again to move, but he might as well have tried to push a ship into hyper-space using his own muscle power.
He tried to speak, tried to say, Vho are you? but that proved beyond him, too. All he could do was to breathe, in and out, blink his eyes, and obey.
If Hah had been a Wookiee, hed have howled, long and loud.
After relieving Han of his blaster, his captor walked around him. Finally, Han got a look at him. Bounty hunter! his mind screamed.
Beat-up greenish-gray Mandalorian armor, a helmet that completely hid his features, and armed to the teeth. He even had black and white braided scalps of some kind hanging from his right shoulder. Hah wondered what the mans name was. He must be one of the elite-a bounty hunter who only went after tough cases.
The Corellian supposed that he ought to be flattered, but it seemed a dubious honor at best.
The bounty hunter went on to pat Han down, looking for more weaponry. He found Hans multitool in his pocket, and confiscated that. The Corellian tried again to move, but he could do absolutely nothing but inhale and exhale. His breathing was loud and harsh in his own ears.
The figure in the Mandalorian armor glanced up at him. Dont waste your energy, Solo. I jabbed you with a dose of a handy little potion theyve come up with on Ryloth. Ex-pensive, but for the bounty theyre paying, youre worth it. You wont be able to move, except at my command, for several hours. It varies from subject to subject. By the time you can move under your own power, well be aboard my ship and halfway to Ylesia.
Han stared at the bounty hunter, suddenly realizing hed seen that figure in Mandalorian armor before, a long time ago. Where? He concentrated, but the memory wouldnt surface.
Having finished his search, the bounty hunter straight-ened. All fight. Turn around. Han found himself turning. Now walk. Turn right at the mouth of the alley.
The Corellian raged helplessly as his body obeyed every command. Right-left, right-left. He was walking, and the bounty hunter was right behind him. Han could catch occa-sional glimpses of him with his pefipheral vision.
They walked down the street of Nar Shaddaa, and for a moment Han hoped that they might encounter one of his friends, even, possibly, Chewie. Surely someone w ould no-tice what was happening to him!
But although many of the denizens of Nar Shaddaa watched bounty hunter and prize walk past, nobody even spoke to them. Hah didnt really blame them. This bounty hunter, whoever he was, was a different sort than the ones hed dealt with before. This guy was skilled, clever, and extremely dangerous. Anyone who interfered with him would undoubtedly suffer dire consequences. Right-left, fight-left, fight-left.
The bounty hunter turned right at the intersection lead-ing to the nearest transport tube. Han knew where they must be heading-the closest public landing platform. The bounty hunter must have a ship waiting there.
Obediently, Han stepped into the transport tube. He tfied again to move. Just let him wiggle even a finger or a toe! But it was hopeless. The public transport system con-sisted of small capsules that would hold four or five individ-uals, all strnng together in a line like beads on a string.
Hans captor did not sit down, but he ordered Han to do so. The Corellian sat there, fuming, imagining all the things he would do to this bounty hunter if only he could move.
The man did not speak. Han could not. It was a short, silent fide.
When they debarked from the tube capsule, Han found himself, as hed suspected, at one of the public rooftop landing fields. The field was huge, broken only by several airshafts that gave light to the buildings beneath the plat-form. The airshafts yawned, with no railings to protect a careless walker from plunging to his, her, or its death hun-dreds or thousands of stories below.
Han had a sudden vivid memory of the night Garris Shfike had chased him across the topmost platforms on Cornscant. Hed barely escaped with his life then. The Corellian had a bad feeling that this time he wasnt going to be so lucky.
Han found himself wondering what fate held in store for him back on Ylesia. Teroenza didnt have a molecule of kindness or mercy in his entire enormous body. Hed see that his prisoner met a slow and agonizing end.
For a moment Han wished he could get control of his body just long enough to make a running dive down one of those airshafts. But no matter how he struggled to move, he could do nothing except obey orders.
Han and his captor strode between the grounded ships, heading Han knew not where.
Right-left, right-left, right-left . . .
The bounty hunter pointed, his arm coming into Hans view. Head for that ship. The modified Firespray class.
Han could see it now. The bounty hunter wasnt kidding when he said modified. The patrol and attack ship was very unusual, obviously heavily modified. Unlike other ves-sels, it landed with its Kuat Engineering Systems F-31 drive engines down against the permacrete. Roughly egg-shaped, when those powerful engines were engaged, the ship would stand up on end to fly. Han had never seen anything quite like it, but the vessel reminded him of its owner-powerful and deadly.
For a moment, forgetting his predicament in his interest in the ship, Han found himself wishing he could get a look at the interior---only to catch himself in disgust. He was going to get a look at the interior, all right. Hed spend several days aboard that modified Firespray as it took him to certain torture and inevitable death.
They were walking down the ragged aisle between two huge Durosian-built freighters now. In just a few steps, theyd be at the bounty hunters ship, and that would be it. Han knew better than to imagine hed be able to somehow overpower this guy, seize control of the Firespray, and save himself.
He wished he could swallow. His throat was so dry it ached.
Right-left, right-left, right-left . . .
This is it, Han thought. This is really it . . .
As Han marched woodenly forward, he caught a blur of motion out of the corner of his eye-a figure stepped out from behind the freighters massive stabilizer fin. A voice hed never heard before, low, pleasant, but holding plenty of authority, said, Freeze, bounty hunter. Move and youve had it.
The hand that had been resting lightly on Hans arm fell away. The Corellian, of course, was unable to stop walking. He marched forward into the sunlit expanse between him-self and the modified Firespray, leaving his captor and his unknown benefactor behind him in the shadow of the ship.
Relief washed through him. Im saved/only to be re-placed with terror. Now that his eyes had adjusted to the sudden change from shadow to sunlight, he could see there was an airshaft between him and the Firespray. Unable to stop himself, he was going to walk right off the edge! Then the voice called after him. Hey, you! Solo! Stop! Hah felt himself halting, and was again flooded with re-lief. Fortunately, his body would obey orders from anyone, not just the unknown bounty hunter. Turn around and come back here! the voice added. Joyfully, Han obeyed.
As he walked toward his former captor and his rescuer, he stared into the shadows, but could make out little except that someone stood half behind the bounty hunter, holding the muzzle of a blaster shoved up under the edge of the Mandalorian helmet, so it dug into the mans neck.
As he walked back into the shadow of the freighters stabilizer fin, and his eyes adjusted from full sunlight, Han finally got a good look at his rescuer.
He was a male, human, approximately Hans age, maybe a couple of years older. Slightly shorter than Han himself, he was slender and fit. He was clean-shaven, with curling black hair, dark eyes, and skin the color of vine-coffeine lightened with traladon mfik.
The man was dressed in the height of fashion, a pale gold shirt that laced up the front, accented with black em-broidery on the wide collar and cuffs. His narrow black trousers were impeccably pressed. A wide, cummerbund-like embroidered belt accented his narrow waist and flat stomach. He wore black softboots, which explained why hed been able to ambush the bounty hunter so sound-lessly. A short, black cape hung from his shoulders.
As Hah approached him, he smiled, an exceptionally charming smile that revealed excellent white teeth. You may stop now, Solo, he said, halting Hah well out of range of his erstwhile captor.
Han stopped, and stood watching as his rescuers thumb moved on the firing control of the blaster as he pulled his hand back slightly. Feeling the newcomers grip slacken, the bounty hunter started to swing around, raising his wrists. The bounty hunter wore Mandalorian wristlets that were undoubtedly loaded with deadly little darts!
Hah tried without success to scream a warning, but it was unnecessary. The newcomer was already firing. The stun blast hit the bounty hunter, and at such dose range, even his Mandalorian armor couldnt deflect its effects. The bounty hunter went down bonelessly. The edges of his ar-mor clattered on the permacrete as he landed.
Hans rescuer replaced his small but deadly holdout blaster in a concealed holster attached to the ornamental belt. He gestured to Hah. Help me pick him up. Naturally, Han did as he was told.
Together, he and the newcomer carried the unconscious hunter toward his ship. Han wondered what they were go-ing to do with him. It wouldnt be long before he regained consciousness.
I wonder how long that stuff will affect you, the res-cuer said thoughtfully. Can you talk, Solo?
Han felt his lips moving. Yes, he said. He tried to say more than that simple assent, but he couldnt.
The man glanced over at him. I get it. You can respond to orders, but no more, rightY I guess so, Hah found himself replying.
Nasty stuff he shot you with, the man said. Ive heard of it, but never seen it in action. Ill have to investigate getting some of it. Could come in handy in a pinch.
When they reached the ramp leading to the airlock of the Firespray, they laid the bounty hunter on the permacrete. The newcomer then proceeded to search his pockets and all the concealed places in his armor. Hello, what have we here? he exclaimed as his deft fingers en-countered several vials in the bounty hunters belt pocket.
