Star Wars - The Han Solo Trilogy - Hutt Gambit, page 29
A minute later the tiny holographic image of Admiral Greelanx materialized on his comm board. Captain Fel!
Fel had no trouble staying cool. He was still too angry to be apprehensive. Yes, Admiral?
You deliberately disobeyed my order!
I retrieved our fighters, Admiral. And their pilots. I considered that . . . important.
Greelanxs little image bristled. Captain, this decision on your part could wind up costing you your command. I shall make a full report.
Fel swallowed, but his gaze did not waver. And I shall, of course, make my full report, he said. As per regula-tions, I intend to offer all the facts of the battle as I ob-served it.
Greelanx stared at Fel for a long moment. Neither gaze wavered.
Finally, the admiral nodded. As you wish, Captain. The tiny image vanished. S oontir Fel dropped into a seat, resisting the urge to hold his head in his hands. Were the lives of those TIE pilots worth a career? It was entirely possible that he was about to find out. Soontir Fel sighed. Life could be very complicated, at times. But then a thought occurred to him, and it cheered him considerably . . .
At least I didnt have to execute Base Delta Zero . . . thats worth something, too . . .
Twenty-four hours after Han and Chewie had brought the Br/a safely back to Nar Shaddaa, undamaged save for the gun mount and a weakened stern shield over her engine housing, Han and Xaverri stood together on the windswept landing platform beside The Phantasms landing ramp. Salla and Chewie had accompanied them most of the way, but had discreetly fallen back, to allow them to say a private farewell.
Now Han looked at Xaverri, who had once more as-sumed her colorful, stylish clothes, and shook his head. I hate good-byes, he said miserably. I can never think of anything to say, and this is worse than usual. How can I find words to thank you, Xaverri? Your illusion saved us. With-out you, we wouldnt have been able to do it.
She smiled at him, her dark eyes full of affection. Hey, Solo . . . I wouldnt have missed it for all the credits in the galaxy. I just wish Id been on the bridge of a few of those Imperial ships to see their reaction.
Han laughed. They had to have been surprised, thats for sure. hnpulsively he reached out and took her hands, then found himself hugging her fiercely. Im gonna miss you, he said, his voice muffled by her hair. Just when I thought Id gotten used to living without you, here I have to do it all over again. It aint fair, Xaverri.
When he pulled back a bit, she reached up and kissed him firmly on the mouth. Dont worry, she said with a smile, Salla wont mind. Shes a classy lady. She is, he agreed. We think a lot alike.
Xaverri nodded. I hope you two are happy, Solo. You take care of each other, okay? Han nodded. You, too. I will, Solo. Dont forget me . . .
Never, he said, his throat tight. I could never forget you, Xaverri.
Xaverri pulled away, and he let her go. She ran up the ramp, into her ship, and did not look back . . .
Three days after the Battle of Nar Shaddaa (as it was coming to be known), Han, Chewie, Salla, and Lando at-tended Roas wedding. The aging smuggler was nearly healed, thanks to a prolonged dunk in a bacta tank, and Lwyll looked radiant in an elegant gown.
It was generally known that the four smugglers had been instrumental in turning the tide of battle in Nar Shaddaas favor. Han and his friends were the toast of the party. They wandered around, sipping drinks, scarfing appetizers, shak-ing hands, and being congratulated by all and sundry.
Lando came up to Roa, threw an arm around the smug-glers shoulders, and said, I understand that getting out of the smuggling business is one of the conditions to this wed-ding, Roa.
Thats right.
Well, youre going to need honest employment, then.
Would you like to work for me? Doing what?
Lando laughed. Dont look so suspicious! Managing my used spaceship lot. Im going on an extended trip back to the Centrality, and I need someone reliable to look after the business.
Roa looked very thoughtful. Well . . . sure! I think Id like that. Thanks, Lando. So . . . why are you heading out? Got something planned?
Vuffl Raa and I are heading back to the Centrality be-cause Ive got a hunch I could make a quick fortune run-ning cargo to those backward planets. And-Lando smiled and stroked his fledgling mustache-if that doesnt work, there are always the casinos in the Oseon system. Itll do me good to polish up my sabaee game. When you dont play, you get rusty. The games here on Nar Shaddaa are pretty small, credit-ante. I need some real high-stakes ac-tion to get ready for the real action.
Han, who had been wandering past, stopped when he heard Landos speech. Sabacc game? Real action? Whats going on? Whose sabacc game needs polish?
Lando laughed. Mine does. If I can raise the stake, Im going to get myself into the big sabacc game thats being held on Bespin in six months. Antes ten thousand credits.
Ten thousand credits! Han whistled softly. Thats a big game, all right.
Lando smiled at his friend. Hey, youre a pretty decent sabacc player, Han. You ought to consider getting together your own stake.
Hah shook his head. No way!
Why not?
Too rich for my bloodT Hah said. If I could manage to scrounge up ten thousand credits, Id put it toward a ship of my own.
Yeah, but you might win enough to buy one, Lando pointed out.
Im not that lucky, Han said.
Oh, cmon, Han, Lando urged, you could raise the credits. He looked over at Chewbacca. Chewie would loan em to you, wouldnt you, Chewbacca? Hes your best friend, right?
Chewbacca gave an eloquent growl, then shook his head emphatically.
Hah laughed. Not a good enough friend to risk ten thousand credits, Lando!
Durga the Hutt crouched beside his parents repulsor sled, grief-stricken, watching the med droids and Grodo, the Hutt physician, work desperately to save Aruk. But even he could tell that their efforts were doomed to failure.
Aruk had collapsed minutes ago, gasping in pain, retch-ing, moaning, then jerking in frenzied spasms. Durga had never felt so helpless as he watched his parent struggle for life and breath.
Aruk the Hutt had always been strong, strong and stub-born. It took him four hours to die, four agonizing, pain-filled hours. Durga crouched by him the entire time, hoping that his parent would regain consciousness, but Aruk never did.
It was a relief when the Besadii Lords straining heart finally gave up the struggle, but even though he was glad that Iris parent was free of the terrible pain, Durga was devastated. He had lost his best friend, as well as his par-ent.
He clutdmd Aruks limp hand, seeing the rivulets of green slobber running out the slack, dead mouth, and knew, without knowing how he knew, that this death was murder.
Who had done this?
Who else but Desilijic stood to profit by Aruks death? For days Durga was too devastated to function, barely eating, dragging himself around like a lost spirit. He re-fused to let his parents body be interred. Even though the physicians tests on the contents of Aruks stomach indi-cated that there was no poison, that the Hutt l_rd had died of natural causes, Durga was convinced that there had been foul play. He had Aruks massive corpse frozen, and re-solved to hire a team of forensic specialists from Imperial Center to perform a thorough autopsy as soon as things settled down.
The Besadii kajidic was in an uproar. Two factions emerged, the pro-Durga and the anti-Durga faction. Durga took steps to consolidate his power. He contacted an infa-mous crime syndicate, Black Sun, that was owned and com-manded by the powerful prince Xizor, and explained to the prince how their organizations might prove beneficial to each other . . .
Over the next three weeks, three powerful Besadii Lords died-two in shuttle crashes, one by drowning when his river barge struck an uncharted rock and sank. After that, the anti-Durga faction became far less vocal. While he waited for the forensic specialists to arrive from Imperial Center, Durga made a list of possible sus-pects. Surely there would be some clue, somewhere, as to who had done this-and how.
Durga resolved to start with the financial records. As a Hutt, he understood finances, and profit. He would check the finances of every member of Desilijic, then go on to Besadii, then the other clans. He would look for a patteN. There was always a pattern to finances, if one knew how to see it . . .
Slowly, day by day, the young Hutt Lord found the strength to carry on without his parent.
Someone is going to pay for this, he vowed every morn-ing when he looked at Aruks holo hanging on the wall in his chamber. And they will pay dearly . . .
This time around, the snooty administrative aide waved Han into Admiral Greelanxs private sanctum without question. It was obvious to Han that his arrival was ea-gerly awaited. The Corellian smiled grimly as he walked in. He supposed hed be glad to see someone who was going to give him a fortune, too . . .
The admiral was standing by the viewport, stating out moodily. He turned as Han came in, nodded, but did not smile. Did you bang them? he asked.
Yes, sir, theyre all here, exactly as specified, Han said. Carefully he pushed items away from the center of Gree-lanxs desk and then emptied the small pouch he carried into the cleared spot.
Greelanx stared down at the sparkling fortune in as-sorted untraceable gems, and his eyes lit up. The Hutts are true to their word, he said. But you wont mind if I- He gestured with a magnifier. Go right ahead, Han said.
The admiral spent the next few minutes examining sev-eral of the largest, most beautiful gems-Gallinorean rain-bow gems, corusca stones, and Krayt dragon pearls of various sizes and hues. I assume you found your shuttle at the rendezvous point, the admiral said, since you are here exactly on time.
Yes, sir, everything was just like you said it would be, Admiral.
Greelanx glanced up, still homing the magnifier up to his face. His right eye was enormous, as seen through the lens. How are you planning to get off my ship? he asked, as if only mildly curious.
Han shrugged. I have a partner who will pick me up.
Very well. Young man, these stones are exactly as speci-fied. Please tell your Hutt masters that I am satisfied.
Han nodded, but said, They arent my masters. I just work for them.
Whatever, Greelanx said. He hesitated, then said, I didnt believe you could do it, you know. Even with the battle plan.
I know, Han said. But it was that or die. We were fighting for our lives. You were fighting for credits. Makes a big difference.
That holo-illusion was a brilliant tactical stroke.
Han smiled and executed a slight bow. Thank you.
Greelanx seemed taken aback. You did it?
No, I had an expert do it. But it was my idea.
Ah. The admiral seemed to consider for a moment, then said, with a trace of wistfulness, You despise me, dont you, young man?
Han stared at him in surprise. Not at all. I do lots of things Im not tickled about for credits.
But there are some things you will not do.
Han considered. Yeah, thats true.
Well, I-
Greelanx broke off as the door suddenly opened, and his aide stood there, eyes wide and frightened. Admiral! Sir! What is it? Greelanx was annoyed.
Sir, I was just advised by the docking-bay crew . . . he has just landed. An unscheduled inspection, apparently. He is on his way to speak with you at this moment!
Greelanx took a deep breath, then waved the man out. I suppose I should have anticipated this, under the cir-cumstances, he muttered, racing over to the wall. Behind a Certificate of Merit, there was a wall lockup unit. Gree-lanx stood for a moment, letting the unit scan his retinas. The door swung open. The admiral grabbed a double hand-ful of jewels, raced over, dumped them in, then came back and brushed the last of the gems into his palm, dumped them, too.
While all this was going on, Han was standing there, totally bemused by the admirals actions. Whats going on? he asked.
No time, Greelanx said, shutting the lockup. Here, youll have to wait in here. You cant let him see you. If he did The admiral bit his lip, yanked open the other door, the one leading to his secretarys office. The room was va-cant, dark. In here. Dont make a sound. Not a sound, understand?
No, Han said, totally confused. I dont.
Greelanx did not bother to reply. Grabbing Hans arm, he shoved him into the office, then shut the door.
Han stood there in the dark office, wondering what in blazes was going on. Who was he? It sounded like Greelanx was expecting some kind of monster out of a kids adven-ture tri-dee!
Half-tempted to storm back out and just say good rid-dance, Hah tiptoed over to the door. The doorseal, he discovered, hadnt quite caught. He was able to hear Gree-lanx moving around, and then came some small thumps and rustles.
Putting h desk back to rights, Han realized.
Then came a squeak, as Greelanx sat back down in his luxurious lizard-hide chair. Han could almost picture him, being elaborately casual.
The doorseal to the outer office hissed. Han heard a heavy, measured tread and the whisper of something that might have been fabric. Was the newcomer wearing long robes? A cloak?
Then came another sound that the Corellian recog-nized loud, stentorian breathing, respirations that were artificially stimulated because the wearer was unable to breathe on his own. A respirator mask . . . the visitor was wearing a respirator mask.
Somehow the sounds of those loud, hissing breaths was ominous. Hah swallowed and didnt make a sound.
Greelaux said, in a deliberately bright, pleasant tone that
was supposed to sound casual, but instead sounded terri-
fied, Lord, what an unexpected pleasure! The Outer Rim
is honored by your presence. I gather you wish to conduct
an inspection. You must understand that we have just re-
cently been engaged in battle, so-
Greelanx, said a deep, mechanically enhanced voice that made Hans skin crawl, you are as stupid as you are greedy. Did you imagine that the High Command would remain unaware of your treachery?
Now Greelanx made no attempt to hide his fear. Lord, please! You dont understand, I was ord His voice broke off in a choked cry. Hans eyes widened, and he wouldnt have opened that door into Greelanxs office for all the dragon pearls in the galaxy.
Silence, except for that loud, harsh breathing. Silence, for many seconds. Then . . . a heavy thump as something landed on the thick carpet. The voice said, Ah, but I un-derstand perfectly, Admiral.
The heavy footsteps came again, passed the door where Hah was hiding, did not pause. Then came the sound of the doorseal activating. Silence.
Han waited a good five minutes before he dared to un-seal the door and peer out. He wasnt particularly surprised to find Greelanx sprawled on the carpet. He checked for a pulse, found none, which also wasnt surprising.
What was surprising was that there wasnt a mark on the body. When Han hadnt heard a blaster, hed assumed the visitor had used a vibroblade. An expert assassin could use one to kill with little blood, and no struggle. But Greelanx didnt have a mark on him . . .
Han stood there, looking down at the admirals dead features, which were frozen in a look of utter terror. He shivered. Who was that guy?
Han walked over to the wall, took a cursory glance at the lockup, but it was as hed expected a good unit, retinally activated. And even if he were to dig Greelanxs eyeball out of its socket-a grisly task, all right-the admiral had al-ready been dead too long. The retinal patterns wouldnt work right.
Im gettin cmtta here . . .Han decided. He walked back, stepped over Greelanxs outflung hand, and then stopped when something his toe had kicked rolled across the carpet.
Han stooped, grabbed it exultantly. A Krayt dragon pead! Small, but it seemed, to the naked eye, flawless. Opalescent black. A valuable color.
Sealing the jewel in an inside pocket, Han hurried out. Ten minutes later hed finished making his preparations for his escape. He stood by the hatch on the lifepod deck, hastily finishing a rewiiing job on file pod-ejection controls. Then he pressed a button, and the lifepod hatch hissed open softly.
He froze as he heard a step, then a familiar voice. Stop right there, Han. Turn around . . . slowly.
Han did so, and found, as hed expected from the voice, his old friend Tedris Bjalin.
The man stood there, holding a blaster aimed at Hah. What are you doing here? I saw you in the corridor, saw you go into the admirals office. Why were you talking to the admiral? Whats going on?
Theyre going to think I murdered Greelanx, Han real-ized. Theyll shoot me first and ask questions later!
Hey, Tedris, take it easy, he said, smiling crookedly. He took a slow, careful step forward. You know you couldnt shoot your old pal.
Stop it right there, Solo, Bjalin said, but his hand
wasnt quite steady on the blasters grip. They had, after all,
been close friends. What are you doing wearing that uni-
form? Who are you-
Hey, pal, you got questions, lets go somewhere and
talk about this, Han said. I can answer every-
Breaking off in midword, Han flung himself at Tedris, using a very dirty Corellian street-fighting trick. Bjalin went down, then lay on the deck, wheezing for breath, his eyes accusing. Hah stooped down, appropriated his old friends blaster.
He went down on one knee beside his friend. Listen to me, Tedris, he said softly. Youre not gonna die, though you wont be real comfy for a while. I want you to know something. I didnt do it. Okay? Just remember that, later on. And you know something, Tedris? Youre too nice a guy to stay in this lousy, massacre-happy Imperial Navy. Take my advice and get out while you can.
With that, Han stunned Tedris, then stepped over his friends unconscious form. Hastily he dragged Bjalin into one of the other lifepods, making sure the hatch wasnt fastened, so there was no way he could accidentally be ejected.
Then he ducked through the hatch of the lifepod hed rewired. Moments later he was ejected into space. Hed rigged the lifepod so it would look like an accidental ejec-tion. Not surprising, under the circumstances. After all, the Destiny had just been through a battle . . .
