I dont know, Winter replied. Perhaps. He is a good man, and respects those who can make their points well, even if they are young. He does believe in resisting the Empire. He has already arranged for me and his daughter to be given special training in intelli-gence-gathering techniques. HeS aware that two young, innocent-seeming girls may be able t go places and do things where seasoned diplomats would fail.
Bria nodded. Ive found that out myself, she said. Its a sad but unfortunate fact that a pretty face and a sweet smile can provide a passport to places inside the Imperial bureaucracy and the High Command... where other efforts would be doomed to fail.
The attractive Commander smiled wryly as she poured another cup of vine-coffeine. As youve no doubt noticed, the Empire is a male-dominated, human-dominated organization. And human males can be . . . manipulated . . . by woman, sometimes aH too easily. I dont like it, and it doesnt make it right, but it the re-suits that count. Ive learned that, over the years.
Even if Viceroy Organa wont listen to me, Winter said, Im sure Leia will. She insisted that our Intelli-gence training include lessons in how to use weapons effectively. Both of us have learned to shoot, and to hit what we aim at. The Viceroy didnt like the idea, at first, but when he thought it over, he agreed, and even chose a Weapons Master for Leia. He an intelligent man, and he could see that there might be situations where wed need to know how to defend ourselves.
What good will convincing the princess do? Bria asked. I know she supposed to be well-loved, but she still just a young girl.
The Viceroy is considefing appointing her Alder-aan representative to the Imperial Senate next year, Winter said. Dont underestimate Leia strength of purpose or influence.
I wont, Bria said. She smiled at Winter. Im so glad we had this talk. I was feeling so discouraged, and youve lifted my spirits. Im very grateful.
Im grateful to you, Commander, Winter said. For speaking the truth in my hearing. The Corellian resis-tance is fight. Our best hope is a Rebel Alliance. I only hope it can happen one day....
As the post-tournament party began to wind down, Han found himself beside Lando. He gestured at the door. Cmon, Ill buy you a drink.
Lando smiled wryly. Youd better be buying, old buddy. Youve got all my credits.
Han grinned. Im buying. Hey... Lando, need a loan? And do you want to book passage back to Nar Shaddaa on that liner that leaving tomorrow?
Lando hesitated. Yes... and no. Id like to borrow a thousand, and Im good for it. But Ive decided to stay here on Bespin for a while. Some of the sentients who didnt make it to the finals of the tournament are bound to be hitting the casinos here on Cloud City, trying to recoup some of what they lost. I should do all fight.
Han nodded, and counted out credit vouchers equal-ing fifteen hundred credits, then handed them to Lando. Take your time, buddy. No hurry.
Lando gave his friend a grin as they approached the bar. Thanks, Han.
Hey . . . that sabacc pot added to my other win-nings... well, I can afford it. The Corellian felt physi- cally tired, but so exhilarated that he knew he couldnt sleep-not yet. He had to savor his victory, his owner-ship of the Falcon, just a little bit longer.
Well, Im headin back tomorrow. No reason to stick around, and Chewie11 be wondering how I am.
Lando glanced across the bar and raised an eyebrow.
Oh, I see at least two reasons to stick around.
Hah followed his friend glance, saw the two women who were leaving the bar through the lobby exit. One was tall and full-bodied, with short black hair, the other was little more than a girl, slender, with long white hair. He shook his head. Lando, you never quit. That tall one could put you on your rear, she built like a null-gee wrestler, and the other is an invitation to a nice jail cell for corrupting a minor.
Lando shrugged. Well, if not those two, then there are plenty of other lovely ladies here in Cloud City. And I want to check out the business opportunities here. I kind of like the place.
Hah grinned smugly at his friend. Suit yourself. My-self, I cant wait to get home and take my ship out for a spin. He signaled the robo-bartender. What your pleasure, my friend?
Lando rolled his eyes. Polanis red for me, and a nice shot of poison for you. Han laughed.
So... where are you going first in your new ship?
Lando asked.
Im gonna keep a promise I made to Chewie almost three years ago and take him to see his family on Kashyyyk, Hah said. With the Falcon I ought to be able to slip past those Imp patrols, no sweat. How long has it been since he was on Kashyyyk? Ahnost fifty-three years, Hah said. A lot could have happened in that time. He left a father, some cousins, and a lovely young Wookiee female behind. Bout time he went home and checked up on em.
Fifty years? Lando shook his head. I cant think of any human woman that would wait fifty years for me ....
I know, Han said. And apparently Chexvie never did have an understanding with Mallatobuck. I warned him hed better expect to find her married and a grandmother.
Lando nodded, and, when the drinks arrived, raised his in a toast. Han lifted his glass of Alderaanian ale. To the Millennium Falcon, Lando said. The fastest hunk of junk in the galaxy. You take care of her, now.
To the Falcon, Han echoed. My ship. May she fly fast and free, and outrun every Imp vessel in existence.
Solemnly, they clinked their glasses, then together, they drank.
It was a sultry day on Nal Hutta, but, then, almost every day was sultry there. Sultry, rainy, damp and pol-luted... that was Nal Hutta. But the Hutts liked it that way; they loved their adopted homeworld. Nal Hutta meant Glorious Jewel in Huttese.
But one Hutt was too intent on his holo-cast unit to even notice the weather. Durga, the new leader of the Besadii clan since his parent Aruks untimely death six months ago, had eyes and attention only for the full-sized holo-image projected into his office.
Two months after Aruk death, Durga had hired a team of the best forensic examiners in the Empire to journey to Nal Hutta and conduct a rigorous autopsy on his parents bloated corpse. Hed had Aruk frozen, then placed in a stasis field, because Durga was convinced that his parent had not died from natural causes.
When the examiners had arrived, theyd spent sev-eral weeks taking samples of every kind of tissue to be found in the Hutt leaders massive corpse, and running tests on them. Their early results had turned up noth-ing, but Durga insisted that they keep on looking-and he was the one paying, so the forensic specialists did as ordered.
Now Durga stared at the coalescing holo-image of the leader of the team of forensic specialists, Myk Bid-lor. He was human, a light-skinned, slightly built male with Pale hair. He wore a lab coat over his rumpled clothing. As Bidlor saw Durgas image forming before him, he bowed slightly to the Hutt Lord. Your Excel-lency. We have received the results from the latest round of tests on the tissue samples we brought back to Cornscant... I mean, to Imperial Center.
Durga waved a small, impatient hand at Bidlor, and addressed the man in Basic. You are late. I was expect-ing your report two days ago. What have you learned?
I regret, your Excellency, that the test results were somewhat delayed, Bidlor apologized. However, this time, unlike our other rounds of tests, we have discov-ered something I believe you will find very interesting. Unexpected, and unprecedented. We had to contact specialists on Wyveral and they are currently checking to see if they can discover where it was manufactured.
The morbidity factor has been difficult to test, since we
have no pure quantities, but we are persisting, and
when we tested the PSA count of the specimenS-
Durga slammed his small hand down on a nearby ta-ble, sending it crashing over. Get to the point, Bidlor! Was my parent murdered?
The scientist drew a deep breath. I cannot say for certain, Your Excellency. What I can tell you is that we have discovered a very rare substance concentrated in the tissues of Lord Aruk brain. The substance is not natural. None of my team has ever en
countered it be-fore. We are running tests even now to discover its properties.
Durga birthmarked face grew even uglier as his scowl deepened. I knew it, he said.
Myk Bidlor raised a cautioning hand. Lord Durga, please... allow us to finish our tests. We will continue our work, and we will report back as soon as we have something definitive to report.
Durga waved a dismissive hand at the forensics ex-pert. Very well. See that you report to me instantly when you discover what we are dealing with here.
The man bowed. You have my assurance, Lord Durga.
With a muttered curse, the Hutt Lord broke the connection.
Durga was not the only unhappy Hutt on Nal Hutta. Jabba Desilijic Tiure, second-in-command of the pow-erful Desilijic clan, was both depressed and displeased.
Jabba had spent the entire morning with his aunt, jili-ac, the leader of Desilijic, trying to finish the final re-port on the losses to Desilijic that had resulted from the Imperial attempt to raze Nar Shaddaa and subjugate Nal Hutta. The Empire attack had failed, mostly due to Jabba and Jiliacs successful bribe of the Imperial Ad-miral, but it would be a long time before business on Nar Shaddaa was back to normal.
Nar Shaddaa was a large moon that orbited Nal Hutta. The other name for Nar Shaddaa was the Smuggler Moon, and it was apt, for most of its deni-zens lived there because they were connected with the illegal trade that moved through Nar Shaddaa every day. Running spice, running guns, fencing stolen trea-sures and antiquities . . . Nar Shaddaa saw all of that and more.
Shipping is down forty-four percent, aunt, Jabba said, his comparatively small, delicate fingers touching the data-pad expertly. We lost so many ships, so many cap-tains and crews when that thrice-cursed Sam Shild mounted that attack. Our spice ustomers have been com-plaining that we cant move our product the way we used to. Even Han Solo lost his ship, and he our best pilot.
Jiliac glanced at her nephew. He has been flying our ships ever since the attack, Nephew.
I know, but most of our ships are older models, aunt. Slower. And, in our business, time equals credits. Jabba did another calculation, then made an exasper-ated sound. Aunt, our profits this year will be the low-est weve experienced in ten years.
Jiliac replied with a mighty belch. Jabba looked up and saw that she was eating again, some high-sustenance goop she smeared on the backs of her swamp-wrigglers before stuffing them into her enormous mouth. Ever since becoming pregnant last year, Jiliac had been under-going one of the typical Hutt growth spurts most adult Hutts experienced several times in their adult lives.
In the space of a year, Jiliac was nearly a third again the size she had been before her pregnancy.
Youd better be careful, Jabba warned. Those wrigglers gave you terrible indigestion the other day. Remember?
Jiliac belched again. Youre right. I should cut back... but the baby needs the nourishment.
Jabba sighed. Jiliac infant was still spending much of its time inside its motherb pouch. Baby Hutts de-pended upon their mothers for all their nourishment for the first year of their lives.
Here is a message from Ephant Mort, Jabba said, seeing that his message indicator was blinking on his comlink. Quickly the Hutt Lord scanned the commu-nique. Vile says I should return to Tatooine. He is run-ning my business interests as ably as he can, I am sure, but the Lady Valarian is taking full advantage of my pro-longed absence to try and move in on my territory.
Jiliac turned her bulbous eyes on her nephew. If you must go, Nephew, go. But see that it is a quick trip. I will need you to handle the conference with the Desili-jic representatives from the Core Worlds in ten days. But, Aunt, it would do you good to handle it your-self. You have gotten rather out of touch with those reps, Jabba pointed out.
Jiliae burped delicately, then yawned. Oh, I shall plan to attend, Nephew. But the baby is so demanding .... I will need you to be there and handle things when I must rest.
Jabba started to protest, then forced back the words. What good would it do? Jiliac simply wasnt interested in the affairs of Desilijic the way she had been before motherhood. It was probably hormonal ....
For months now, Jabba had been working to recoup the losses the Desilijic kajidic suffered in the Battle of Nar Shaddaa. He was getting tired of shouldering- speaking figuratively, of course, for Hutts did not really have shoulders-the burden of running Desilijic.
Here is a note that should interest you, Aunt, Jabba said, examining another message. Repairs to your yacht have been completed. The Dragon Pearl is fully opera-tional again.
In the old days, Jiliac first question would have b een how much? but she did not ask it. The bottom line was no longer her primary interest in life ....
Jiliacs yacht had been hijacked by some of the de-fenders of Nar Shaddaa, and had suffered considerable damage in the battle. For a long time Jabba and his aunt had thought the ship lost altogether, then a Hurt smuggler had spotted the vessel drifting among the abandoned hulks that were scattered in orbit surround-ing the Smugglers Moon.
Jabba had ordered the Pearl towed into spacedock, and had spent a goodly sum in bribes, but hed never been able to discover which of the smugglers had hi-jacked the vessel and used it in the battle.
In the old days, Jabba reflected sadly, news of her precious ship would have been of major concern to his aunt. But the Dragon Pearl had been damaged because Jiliac had forgotten to have the ship brought safely to Nal Hutta before the battle. The stress of mother-hood, as shed put it.
Well, the stress of motherhood had cost Desilijic well over fifty thousand credits in repairs. Just because Jiliac had been careless.
Jabba sighed, and absently reached for a wriggler from his aunt snackquarium. He heard a snort, then a buzzing nasal rumble, and turned to see that Jiliacs massive eyes were closed, and her mouth was half-open as she snored.
Jabba sighed again, and went back to work ....
That same night, Durga the Hutt was eating his eve-ning repast with his cousin, Zier. Durga did not like Zier, and he knew that the other Hutt lord was his chief rival for the leadership of Besadii, but he tolerated him because Zier knew better than to oppose Durga in any overt fashion. Remembering Aruks advice to keep your friends close . . . and your enemies even closer, Durga had informally made Zier his lieutenant, entrust-ing him with matters pertaining to the administration of Besadii clan vast Nal Hutta enterprises.
Durga kept Zier on a very short leash, however, and trusted him not at all. The two Hutt lords fenced back and forth verbally as they ate, each watching the other as a predator regards prey.
Just as Durga was lifting a particularly succulent morsel to his mouth, his majordomo, a servile, pale Chevin humanoid, appeared. Master, there has been a message sent. You are to expect an important holo-transmission from Coruscant within a few minutes. Do you wish to take it here?
Durga gave Zier a quick glance. No. Ill take it in my office.
He undulated after the Chevin, Osman, until he reached his office. The connection light was just be-ginning to flash. Is it Myk Bidlor with news about the substance found in my parent brain tissues? the Hutt wondered. He had clearly gained the impression from the human that it would be some time, perhaps months, before they would complete their investigation.
Waving the bowing Chevin humanoid out of the room, Durga activated the security locks, keyed on the shielded frequency field, and then accepted the communication.
A blond human female suddenly stood before him, nearly life-sized. Durga wasnt very familiar with human standards of attractiveness, but he recognized that she appeared fit and limber. Lord Durga, she said. I am Guri, aide to Prince Xizor. The prince would like to speak with you personally.
Oh, no/If Durga had been human, he would have broken out in a sweat. But Hutts did not sweat, though their pores did secrete an oily substance that kept their skin comfortably moist and slick.
Aruk the Hutt had not raised a fool, however, so none of Durga unease showed. Instead he inclined his head, the closest a Hutt coul
d come to a humanoid bow. The prince honors me.
Before Durgas eyes, the figure of Guri stepped to one side of the transmission field, and was almost in-stantly replaced by the tall, imposing form of the Falleen prince, Xizor, the leader of the huge criminal empire known as Black Sun.
Xizor people, the Falleen, had evolved from a rep-tilian species, though the prince was very humanoid in appearance. His skin had a definite greenish cast, and his eyes were flat and expressionless. His body was mus-cled and lithe, and might have been in his mid-thirties (though Durga knew his age was closer to one hun-dred). Xizor skull was bare save for a topknot of long black hair that fell to his shoulders. He wore an expen-sive surcoat over a one-piece garment that resembled a pilot jumpsuit.
As Durga gazed at Xizor, the leader of Black Sun in-clined his head in a faint nod. Greetings, Lord Durga. It has been several months since I have heard from you, so I thought it best to see for myself that you are well. How is Besadii doing in the wake of your esteemed par-ent untimely death?
Besadii is doing well, Your Highness, Durga said.
Your help was most appreciated, I assure you.
When Durga had first succeeded to the leadership of Besadii, hed faced so much opposition from other lead-ers in the clan-mostly due to the young Hutt unfor-tunate facial birthmark, which Hutt lore held to be an extremely bad omen-that hed had to ask Prince Xizor for help. Within a week after his request, Durga three main opponents and detractors had died in unrelated accidents. Opposition had grown far quieter after that ....
Durga had paid Xizor for his help, but the princek fee had been so modest, so much less than the young Hutt lord was expecting, that Aruk heir knew he hadnt seen the last of Black Sun.
I was only too glad to provide whatever assistance you needed, Lord Durga, Xizor said, spreading his hands apart in a gesture that conveyed sincerity. Durga didnt have any trouble believing the Falleen Prince was sincere. The Besadii Lord had known for a long time that Black Sun would be only too happy to gain a foothold in Hutt space. And I must say, it is my most humble wish that we will have cause to work together again.
Star Wars - The Han Solo Trilogy - Rebel Dawn Page 4
