It took him a few minutes the next morning to remember just who he was(Vykk Draygo, and don't forget it!) and what he was doing in thissticky-hot place. Han ventured into the shower and was pleased to findthe refresher unit contained everything necessary for a human being.
He hummed tunelessly as he soaped himself, but when he lifted a foot towash it, Han froze in surprise and dismay. Fuzzy, bluegreen, mossystuff was growing between his toes!
Alarmed, Han checked further and was disgusted to find patches startingin his armpits, at the back of his neck, and other, even more personalareas.
Cursing, he scrubbed the disgusting fungus away, leaving raw skinbehind, and then, realizing he was running late, he bolted out of theshower. What kind of place is this, anyway?
When he walked back into the sleeping area, he found the medical droidwaiting for him, with a new pilot's uniform draped over one arm.
The droid held a jar of slimy gray stuff in its other hand. "Pardonme, sir," the droid said. "But may I ask whether you are experiencingany . .
. outbreaks of fungus growing on your skin?"
"Yeah," Han snarled. "The climate in this place is miserable. Nobodydeserves to live in this dump."
"I quite understand, sir," the droid said, actually managing to soundsympathetic. "May I offer the contents of this jar? It should preventfungal growths with regular application."
"Thanks," Han said shortly, and retired to treat the affected areas.
The stuff smelled horrible, but it soothed the irritation. Then he gotdressed, admiring himself in his first real pilot's uniform. Thecolorful patches looked quite spiffy.
Han refused to let himself worry about the pilgrims he'd seen lastnight.
Nobody had forced the weak-minded fools to come here, so he wasn'tgoing to waste any time imagining their fate. He was going to takecare of H an Solo--or, more accurately, he was going to take care ofVykk Draygo.
Besides, Han told himself, I'm going to be piloting for theseYlesians.
I'll have access to a ship. If I decide I don't like it, I'll justtake my money and . . vanish. What can they do to stop me, afterall?
Feeling cocky, Han smiled at his reflection in the mirror and gavehimself a snappy salute. "Cadet Han Solo reporting for duty, sir!" hewhispered, trying it on for size. His dream of the Academy had neverseemed so close, so attainable.
When Han stepped out of the infirmary, the first person he saw wasTeroenza. Han nodded pleasantly to his employer. "Good morning,sir!"
The High Priest inclined his massive head. "And to you, PilotDraygo.
Allow me to present someone you are going to be spending a lot of timewith, during your employment with us." The High Priest beckoned, andHan heard someone behind him. He whirled around, and couldn't stophimself from taking a quick step back.
His first impression was of height, and the second was of sharp teethand knifelike claws. This being stood nearly three meters tall, tallereven than a Wookiee. The creature had a mouthful of needle like fangs,and claws that looked like they could rip through durasteel. It wasfurred, but it wore a pair of breeches. A curved knife hung on itsbelt, and a holstered blaster was strapped to its thigh. Sleek musclesrippled everywhere.
The newcomer grinned, baring even more of those teeth. "Greetings . .
." it said, speaking Basic with a pronounced lisp. "This is Muuurgh,"Teroenza introduced the being. "He's a Togorian, one of the mosthonorable sentients in this galaxy. The Togorian reputation forhonesty and loyalty is unparalleled, did you know that?"
Han looked up at the huge being and swallowed. "Uh, no . . ." hemanaged.
"We've assigned Muuurgh to be your . . . bodyguard, Pilot Draygo. Onplanet or off, Muuurgh will accompany you everywhere . . . isn't thatcorrect, Muuurgh?"
"Muuurgh has given word of honor," the Togorian affirmed.
The High Priest folded his undersized arms across his massive body, andhis mouth curved up in what almost appeared to be a mocking smile.
"Muuurgh is going to make very sure, Pilot Draygo, that no matter whereyou go, or what you do . . . you will be . . . safe."
Four
Muuurgh
Han stared at the huge, black-furred creature, realizing that the jigwas definitely up. Teroenza's meaning was unmistakable--step out ofline, and Muuurgh will rip you in two. Han eyed the Togorian,realizing that the alien could easily do just that.
He managed to pull himself together and smiled up at the Togorian.
"Pleased to meet you, Muuurgh," he said. "It'll be nice to have realcompany on those long flights."
"Yess . . ." the bodyguard said, stepping closer. Han realized withdismay that the top of his head barely reached the Togorian'sbreastbone. The alien appeared so feline that Han was surprised torealize he didn't have a tail. "Muuurgh enjoys space travel . . ."
the bodyguard said in his strongly accented, lisping Basic. His facialfur was black, but his whiskers and chest fur were white. His eyeswere a startling light blue, with brilliant green slitted pupils.
"Muuurgh goesss many spaceports, the more the better."
Han had a little trouble understanding the Togorian's Basic, but hecould make it out. The young Corellian wondered just how smart thisbeing was.
Have to get to know him, Han decided. Just because he can't speak goodBasic doesn't mean he's dumb. But if he is . . .
Han smiled.
"We'd thought we'd give you a day to settle in, Pilot Draygo," Teroenzasaid. "Move into the quarters we've assigned you, in theAdministration Building. Muuurgh will show you where it is. Then,tomorrow, we'd like you to begin ferrying goods and personnel back andforth between the colonies. By the time our next shipment of spice isdelivered to our space station, you will be ready to ferry that downfor us. After today, I am going to order Jalus Nebl, our other pilot,to take a rest. He has been working too hard."
Han nodded. I've got to meet up with this Sullustan and comparenotes.
"That will be fine. Can I . . . look around a bit? I'd like to checkout the lay of the land."
Teroenza inclined his massive head. "Certainly, as long as Muuurghaccompanies you, and you follow all safety regulations while touringthe factories."
"Of course," Han agreed.
Teroenza bowed slightly. "If you will excuse me, we are expecting ashipment of pilgrims to come down from our orbiting space station thismorning. I have much to do as I prepare to welcome them."
Han nodded, thinking about what lay ahead for those pilgrims. He knewthat mining spice was considered dangerous, an extremely unpleasantduty--matter of fact, being sent to the spice mines of Kessel was acommon punishment for felons--but he knew very little about whathappened to the spice once it was mined.
Well, he intended to find out. Maybe there was some way he could turnthis situation even more to his advantage. You never knew . . . andit never paid to leave stones unturned. In Han Solo's book, knowledgefrequently led to power---or at least to a faster escape . . .
Muuurgh led Han up a paved path through the jungle, until they reacheda large, very modern building. "Administration Center," the Togoriansaid, indicating the building.
The "bodyguard" led Han around to a side entrance, and then down acorridor until he reached a door. "You, Muuurgh, sleep here," he said,opening the door.
Inside was a small suite consisting of a bedroom, refresher unit, and asmall sitting room. Han was pleased to see that Teroenza had beenmindful of the terms of the contract. In one corner of the bedroom wasa fully equipped sim unit. Muuurgh walked to the door of the bedroomand waved a clawed hand at it. "Yours. Pilot sleep here."
"But where will you sleep?" Han asked.
As expected, Muuurgh indicated the sitting room. "Muuurgh here."
Great, Han said. These priests don't trust me any more than I trustthem. With Muuurgh sleeping between me and the door to the outside,I'd be taking a big chance trying to sneak out at night. Just great.
"That doesn't look very comfortable to me," Han said, doing his best
&nbs
p; imitation of wide-eyed innocence. Inwardly, he was wondering whetherMuuurgh was a sound sleeper. "Maybe you should get a room of your own,so you could sleep comfortably."
"Muuurgh most comfortable when he is keeping word of honor," theTogorian said. Han stared at the catlike being. Had he glimpsed aflash of humor in those blue-green eyes with their slitted pupils?
"Muuurgh give word of honor to watch Pilot always, so Muuurgh mostcomfortable here." Han nodded. "Right."
He stared for a moment at the blaster in the Togorian's holster. "Ihad a blaster when I came here, but I don't know where it is, now," hecommented. "I guess I'll need to ask about getting it back."
"Pilot not need blaster." Muuurgh flexed his fingers and theretractable claws popped out. "High Priest say Pilot not needblaster."
"But what if I get attacked by some kind of . . . predator?" Hanwaved at the omnipresent jungle outside the building. There wereprobably dozens of predators who might enjoy hunting an off-worlder,either for food or fun.
The giant alien shook his whiskered head. "Never happen. Pilot haveMuuurgh, who has blaster."
"Uh . . . that's true," Han said. Mentally, he made a note to askTeroenza for some kind of weapon. He felt naked without one, evenafter only having had one for a couple of days.
"So, Muuurgh, shall we go exploring?" Han asked. "I don't have anybaggage to unpack, as you can see."
"Explore where?" the Togorian asked.
"I'd like to tour the factories," Han said. "And this AdministrationCenter."
"Fine," the Togorian said. "Come, Pilot."
"Right behind you," Han said, suiting his action to his words.
They walked the corridors of the Administration Center, glanced in atthe mess hall, toured the guards' wing, and peeked at the priests'quarters.
When Han caught a glimpse of the Armory, he realized that the Ylesianpriests must be afraid of a pilgrim uprising, because the percentage ofguards to workers was high. The Armory boasted a lot of heavyduty riotcontrol armament--force pikes and stun gas. The guards they met camefrom many different worlds. Besides humans, Han saw Rodians,Sullustans, Twi'leks, and porcine Gamorreans.
"So let me get this straight," he said to Muuurgh as they skirted anarea in the Administration Center that signs in many languagesidentified as RESTRICTED ACCESS. "The guards all sleep here most ofthe time? But
why don't they sleep near the pilgrims' dormitory if the priests wantto make sure the workers stay under control?"
"Sleep-time not the problem," the Togorian said in his halting Basic.
"After pilgrims are Exulted, can barely walk back, go sleep rightaway.
Only time pilgrims get mad, angry at bosses, is before Exultation."
Makes sense, Han thought dourly. Give the addicts their fix, and thenthey just sleep it off until the next day. "Then the guard patro--"The pilot stopped in midword when he glimpsed something large andgrayish gliding far down the corridor in the off-limits area. Hansquinted into the dimness. "Hey . . . what was that?" he muttered.
"That looked just like a--" Han broke off as the object turned thecorner. He started after it at a good clip.
Muuurgh made a futile grab for his charge, but Han was quicker than thebig alien and dodged. He jogged down the "forbidden" hallway,listening hard for the sound of footsteps, but none came.
When he reached the junction of the corridors, Han turned to stare upthe one where he'd glimpsed that flicker of gliding motion. His eyeswidened.
Hey, it is a Hutt! What's a Hutt doing here? There was no mistakingthe identity of that h uge, sluglike form reclining on its repulsorliftsled.
As he hesitated, Muuurgh pounced on him as though he were a vrelt, andpicked up the Corellian bodily. Han repressed a yelp of dismay as theTogorian tucked him under one muscled arm and ran back down thecorridor, until they were back in the UNRESTRICTED ACCESS section ofthe Center.
Muuurgh set Han back on his feet and flexed a hand under theCorellian's nose. "My people teach, everyone entitled to ONE mistake,"the bodyguard said. "Pilot just have his. No more mistakes, orMuuurgh have to teach Pilot like little cub. Muuurgh has given word ofhonor, remember.
Understood?"
Han eyed the claws that gleamed under his nose, sharp and shiny asrazors.
"Uh . . . yeah," he managed to say. "I understand, Muuurgh. Humansjust get . . . curious, you know?"
"Curiosity fatal sometimes," Muuurgh growled.
"I can see your point," Han said dryly. "Or, rather, your points."
Muuurgh stared at the sharp, shining tips of his claws, then his muzzlelifted back from his fangs, and he made a low, mewling sound. For amoment Han froze, then he looked at the Togorian and realized this wasthe alien's form of laughter. Evidently Muuurgh had caught the joke.
Han managed a weak chuckle. "So, how about we get some food, thencheck out those factories, eh, pal?" he asked.
"Muuurgh always hungry," the Togorian agreed, leading the way towardthe mess hall. "What means this word 'pal'?"
"Oh, a pal is a friend, a buddy, you know. Someone you spend time withthat you like," Han explained.
"Yessss . . ." the Togorian said, nodding. "Pilot means 'packmate."""Right."
"Good," the bodyguard said. "Muuurgh misses his packmates."
Han recalled Teroenza saying that his people came from Nal Hutta, theHutt homeworld, but Han hadn't realized that that meant there wereHutts living on Ylesia. When questioned, Muuurgh confirmed that he hadseen several of the "slug masters who ride on air" as he called them.
There's only one reason Hutts are here, Han thought. They're the realmasters of Ylesia. After all, they dominate the contraband spice trade. .
.
Lunch was good, if unimaginative and (to Han's taste) lacking inseasoning. Still, the cook was no slouch. His or her bread was verygood, Han thought as he chewed on a bite of Alderaanian flatbread. Herealized suddenly, with a pang, that it had been nearly a day sincehe'd thought of Dewlanna. The thought made him feel vaguely disloyal,but then he took himself in hand. Dewlanna wouldn't want him to mopeand grieve over her.
She'd always enjoyed life, and she wouldn't expect Han not to, justbecause she was gone . . .
He came back out of his reverie to find Muuurgh watching himcuriously.
"Pilot is thinking of someone far away," the Togorian observed, wavingthe bone he had just finished gnawing. Tiny fragments of raw meatstill clung to it, but Muuurgh had cleaned it impressively, Hanthought. He had to get every little bit. It required a lot of rawmeat to keep that massive body going.
"Yeah," Han agreed with a sigh. "Someone about as far away as anyonecan be."
"Pilot have sweetheart?"
Han shook his head. "Well, there've been a few girls here and there,"he admitted, "but nobody special. No, I was thinking of the person whomore or less raised me."
Muuurgh took a huge gulp of some foamy stuff from a tankard. "Humansraise young much differently than my people do," he said. "Really?
Tell me about your world."
Muuurgh obediently launched into a description of Togoria, a worldwhere males and females, though equal, did not mix their societies.
Males
lived a nomadic hunting existence, flying over the plains on theirhuge, domesticated flying reptiles, called "mosgoths." They hunted inpacks.
The females, on the other hand, had domesticated animals for meat, sothey did not need to hunt. They lived in cities and villages, and itwas the female Togorians who had developed all of the planet'stechnology.
"Well, if your people don't live together, how do you"--Han searchedfor a polite term--"uh . . . get together, you know, to . . . uh...
reproduce?"
"We travel to city to stay with our mates once each year," Muuurghsaid.
"Betweentimes, we think often of each other. Togorians very emotionalpeople, capable of great love," he added earnestly. "Especiallymales.
Great love is why Muuurgh is here. Males of my species rarely leaveour world, does Pilot know that?"
"I do now," Han said. "So . . . Muuurgh . . . when you say greatlove made you come to Ylesia, what do you mean? Do you have a mate?"
The Togorian nodded. "Promised mate. Someday be mated for life, ifMuuurgh can but find her." The huge alien sighed, looking so woefulthat Han felt sorry for him.
"What's her name?"
"Mrrov. Beautiful, beautiful Mrrov. As Togorian females do, shedecided to take look at big galaxy. Muuurgh begged her not to go, butfemales very stubborn."
The alien looked at Han, who nodded. "Yeah, I've run into thatmyself."
Star Wars - Han Solo Trilogy - The Paradise Snare Page 9
