Star Wars: The Han Solo Trilogy I: The Paradise Snare

by A. C. Crispin

  The felinoid had been creeping through the jungle with exaggerated care for the past couple of minutes, determined to get close enough to overhear their whispered conversation. The Togorian had only managed to get close enough to catch the tail end of what they’d been discussing—but he’d heard enough.

  Pilot and Bria were planning to escape. They were planning to steal from his masters. Pilot was planning to “take care” of Muuurgh.

  The Togorian shook his massive head unhappily. Muuurgh had given his word of honor to his masters—his course should be clear. But it wasn’t.

  He knew well enough what he should do. He should go to Teroenza tomorrow morning and tell him what he’d overheard. Or perhaps he, Muuurgh, should kill Pilot himself and tell the priest why after the deed was done.

  But he stood there, hesitating. It was obvious that Pilot was desperate enough to shoot him to get away. Muuurgh had given his word of honor to guard Pilot.

  But Pilot was also Vykk … and Muuurgh had come to think of Vykk as a friend. Vykk was determined to protect his female. Muuurgh could understand that. He’d do almost anything to protect Mrrov … if he could only find her …

  Muuurgh growled, low in his throat. Perhaps he should pretend to be friendly, so that Pilot would allow him to get close enough to use his teeth and claws. Muuurgh was an expert hunter. Once he’d gotten hold of his prey, there was no escape.

  Could he kill Vykk to keep his word of honor?

  Muuurgh growled again and turned back into the jungle. Tonight he would hunt, and he would kill. He would tear open and consume his fresh prey. Perhaps that would clear his mind, and then he would be able to decide what to do …

  Muuurgh glided beneath the giant trees, as silent and invisible as a wraith …

  The next morning Han whistled cheerfully as he showered, and even rubbing the nasty-smelling anti-fungal gray goo over himself couldn’t depress him. He and Bria were getting off this world, and they’d have plenty of credits once they sold the stolen items from Teroenza’s collection. Han would be able to pay for his new ID, food, and lodging while he took the exams to get into the Academy.

  And when he got out, he’d be an officer, a respected man, and Bria would be waiting for him …

  Rubbing his wet hair with a towel, he headed for his clothes, which were lying across the foot of his bunk.

  He had no warning, none at all. One moment he was walking, the next something had grabbed him and flung him to the floor so hard it knocked the wind out of him. Han gasped like a beached whaladon and spots danced before his eyes.

  But there was something else, there, too … holding him down, something that had one gigantic hand pressing his chest. Instinctively, Han lay still, gasping and finding breath, realizing that hand could crush him like a dilga-nut.

  Blackness swam before his eyes—no, the blackness was real. Real and furry, with a white spot in the middle of its chest and bristling white whiskers. Han managed to focus his eyes. “Muuurgh …?” he gasped feebly. “Wha’s goin’ on …?”

  Muuurgh snarled into Han’s face, his huge fangs so close that Han could see them gleam with saliva. “Pilot planning to escape, take Bria,” he growled. “Vykk planning to steal from Ylesian masters. Vykk planning to take care of Muuurgh …”

  “But—” The hand pressed down, slightly, and Han subsided, eyes bulging.

  Muuurgh raised a massive paw-hand and flexed it slightly. Scimitarlike claws extruded. “Now treacherous Pilot will die,” the Togorian snarled.

  “No!” Han put up his hands in a gesture of appeal. “Please! Just listen!”

  “Muuurgh listened last night. Muuurgh heard plenty,” the Togorian said grimly.

  “Hey, pal!” Han babbled, imagining what those claws would do to his exposed throat. “I thought we were friends!”

  “Muuurgh liked Pilot. Muuurgh is sorry to have to kill Pilot. But word of honor was given. No choice for Muuurgh.”

  The hand started down. Han squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the end.

  He felt the breeze of the Togorian’s swing graze his cheek, his throat, but nothing touched him. After several eternities, Han opened his eyes again. Muuurgh was staring down at him, plainly torn.

  Finally, he grabbed Han by the shoulder and hair, jerked him to his feet, and pushed him in the direction of the Corellian’s clothes. “Get dressed! Muuurgh not want Pilot’s blood on his claws. We go to tell Teroenza what Pilot and girl are planning. Priest will tell other guards to kill traitors.”

  Han hastened over to the bunk, and began dragging on his clothes. At least he wouldn’t die naked and wet. “Listen, Muuurgh,” he said, “you’ve gotta listen to me. Please! What can it hurt?”

  “Pilot lies. Muuurgh knows he lies. Muuurgh—I will not listen.”

  That’s a good sign that he’s regaining his cool, Han thought. The grammar I taught him is coming back.

  Sealing the front of his coverall, Han sat down on the edge of the bunk to pull on his boots. “Your people have a code of honor, right?” he said, thinking as fast as he’d ever thought in his life.

  “Yes.”

  “If you give your word of honor to someone who’s employing you, you’ve got to keep it, right?”

  “Yes. Pilot can move faster than that. Put on those boots.”

  Han slowly inserted his right foot, toes pointed down, and began to pull the boot on. “Well, pal, suppose you gave your word of honor to someone and found that everything he told you was a lie on his part of the contract. What does that do to your agreement? Do you have to keep your word to someone who’s lied to you and made a fool out of you?”

  Muuurgh eyed Han suspiciously, but said nothing.

  “C’mon, pal, what’s your code of honor say about making agreements with liars, eh?”

  Muuurgh shook his massive head, then his ears flattened in anger. “If a Togorian makes a word of honor with a liar, contract is void. There is no honor to be had dealing with a liar.”

  “All right,” Han said with a surge of satisfaction. He picked up his left boot. “Listen to me, pal. I think Mrrov is here, on Ylesia. I think Teroenza lied to you.”

  Muuurgh stared at Han, then his blue eyes narrowed. “You would lie to stay alive, Vykk.”

  “Yeah, I would, pal,” Han said honestly. “But I swear to you I ain’t lying about this.”

  “Swear? What is this ‘swear’?”

  “It’s … like a word of honor, sort of,” said. “My people swear by the most important thing in the world to them. It’s like … sacred, I guess you’d say.”

  “So what does Vykk swear by?”

  Han thought for a moment. “I swear,” he said, slowly and distinctly, “by Bria’s life. You know I care for her … a lot. Don’t you?”

  Muuurgh considered for a moment, then nodded.

  “Okay, then, I swear to you, on Bria’s life, that last night she told me she saw a Togorian here, six months or more ago. That would tie in with the time you were searching for Mrrov, wouldn’t it?”

  Silently the Togorian nodded again.

  “She saw a Togorian, Muuurgh. Ask her yourself. Teroenza and his goons lied to you when they said she never came here. She’s probably still here, on Ylesia. Probably not here at Colony One, ’cause that’s too risky. But there’s a good chance she’s at Colony Two … or maybe even Three. But Colony Two has been there longer, they’ve got a lot more pilgrims there than at Colony Three. So I’m betting she’s at Colony Two. It’s worth checking out, isn’t it?”

  “What did she look like?” Muuurgh asked slowly.

  For a moment Han was tempted to lie, say he didn’t know, because what if he was wrong about the Togorian being Mrrov, and Muuurgh got mad and killed him right here and now? He took a deep breath. “Bria said she was white and some other color. Striped. She thought they might be orange stripes, but she said it was almost dark, so she’s not sure.”

  I sure hope Mrrov wasn’t solid-colored or spotted!

  Muuurgh’s ears fla
ttened, and he hissed like a leaky valve, teeth bared ferociously. Han desperately looked around for something to brain the Togorian with, but there wasn’t a thing in reach. Silently he resigned himself to being ripped in two.

  Then Muuurgh’s furious hiss mutated into a pain-filled yowl of anguish. The big alien sank to the floor, clutching his head and yowling in an ululating keen. “You have described her!” he growled, finally. “By all the gods of my fathers, can she have been here all these days, while I believed those liars? I will go now to tear their throats out and eat their hearts!”

  “Whew,” Han muttered softly. I’m glad that worked!

  Muuurgh leaped to his feet, obviously ready to make good on his threat.

  “Wait!” Han leaped up and grabbed one huge arm, hung on as he was dragged across the floor, through the living room, almost to the door. He dug his heels in and refused to let go. “Muuurgh, if you want her back, stop!”

  Muuurgh slowed, then stopped. “Good,” Han said, panting. “Now let’s talk about this like rational sentients, okay? Sit down.”

  Muuurgh sank down onto his pallet. Han switched on some music, then pulled his beat-up chair so close to the Togorian that they were nearly touching. “Talk low,” he whispered, and Muuurgh nodded.

  “I’ve got a plan,” Han said. “I think I know how to get her, if she’s still here on Ylesia.” I just hope they haven’t shipped her off to the spice mines, he thought, but he didn’t say it aloud. Muuurgh knew what happened to the slaves as well as he did, by now.

  “Okay, Vykk,” Muuurgh said, equally softly, “tell me the plan.”

  Han thought a moment. “I’m going to need your help for some of this. I’ve got some preparations to make, and I’ll try to get everything possible set up before I leave.”

  “Leave? Vykk is leaving?”

  “Yes, but I’m not talking about our final escape. In a couple of days I’ve got to deliver a message and a gift from Zavval to a Hutt named Jiliac on Nal Hutta. I’m supposed to stay there and wait for a reply. I’ve never been to Nal Hutta, and I don’t know the drill there, but Jalus Nebl has.”

  Muuurgh nodded to show he was listening, and nervously began to groom his white whiskers.

  “So, okay. The Dream is really too small for three. I’m gonna point that out to Teroenza and tell him Nebl wants to get back into flying again as my copilot. I’m pretty sure he’ll agree to let me and Nebl fly this mission together. I’m gonna suggest that you stay here, ’cause there won’t be room for you.”

  Han got up and began pacing back and forth as he thought. “The priests know you like to hunt, right? So when I get permission to take Nebl with me, you should request to spend a couple of days hunting. You can move fast over rough ground, right?”

  “Very fast,” agreed the Togorian. “Fast enough to track and kill prey.”

  “Do you think you could make it on foot to Colony Two?”

  “Yes.” Muuurgh sounded positive.

  “Well, it’s our best shot. If Mrrov is still here on Ylesia, there’s a better than fifty-fifty chance that she’s at Colony Two. You should go there and scout it out, find out if she’s there.”

  “And rescue her!” Muuurgh leaped to his feet.

  “No!” Han snapped. “Sit down. That would be the worst thing to do. They’d start a planet-wide search for the two of you. They’d use sensors tuned to Togorian readings to pinpoint you. Then you’d be captured and probably killed. Or sent to the mines of Kessel, which amounts to the same thing.”

  “You want Muuurgh to see Mrrov, and not let her see him?”

  “Exactly. Just find her, scout out where she sleeps, eats, stuff like that. Then, when we make our getaway, you and me will hop over to Colony Two and break her outta there. I’ve been doing some late-night scouting around this place, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  “Muuurgh noticed,” the Togorian said dryly. “Everywhere Vykk went, Muuurgh was behind him, watching. Why do you think I knew to listen when you walked Bria back to her dorm?”

  “Well, anyway, I’ve figured out how to create a diversion that’ll keep the guards busy while we get the best stuff out of the collection. And I know where the communications center is. I’ll make sure that communications between the colonies are down by the time we get outta here. We’ll hop over to Colony Two, and before they know what’s happening, we’ll grab Mrrov and be hightailing it off this planet. Then I’ll take you both back to Togoria, okay?”

  Muuurgh looked at Han, his blue eyes narrowing, whiskers twitching with emotion. “You would do this for Muuurgh and Mrrov?”

  “Yes. I swear it. If you help me and Bria break into and steal Teroenza’s stuff, I swear to you we won’t leave without Mrrov.”

  The big Togorian thought about that for a long time, then his eyes met Han’s. “I will do it,” he said. “Word of honor.”

  Han nodded. “It’s a deal, pal.”

  That same evening, Han went over to Teroenza’s treasure room to find Bria. He was wondering if she’d be attending devotions now that she knew they were faked. Standing outside, he knocked on the heavy, metal-sheathed door. “It’s me,” he called in response to her voice from inside.

  The door opened, and Bria stepped out. Han’s eyes widened. “Hey! You look great!”

  For the first time since he’d known her, she’d doffed her bulky tan robes and concealing cap. Instead, she was wearing a simple pale blue tunic and trousers. Although modest in style, they revealed a figure that was slender but definitely female.

  “Exalted Teroenza told me I could dispense with my pilgrim robes while I was working on the collection,” she told him. When she saw the warmth in his eyes, she blushed a little, but smiled. “He was afraid that I’d catch my robes on some valuable artifact and knock it off a shelf.”

  “Well, I approve,” Han said. “Want to get a cup of tea?”

  “Sure.”

  When they were seated in the mess hall, with cups of stim-tea before them, Bria smiled shyly at Han. “So … you really like the way I look?”

  “You bet,” he said. “You’re the prettiest girl on this planet, no kidding.”

  She smiled, then the smile faded, and she looked troubled. “You’re apparently not the only one who thinks so, Vykk …”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I had the strangest exchange with Ganar Tos, Teroenza’s majordomo, this morning. He’d apparently never seen beyond the pilgrim robes, but when I put these clothes on, he really noticed me. He followed me around for about an hour while I was trying to get some rearranging done, making conversation—or trying to. Those orangy-red eyes of his gave me chills. He’s old, but it’s obvious he still has … um … plenty of life in him, if you get my meaning. Male life.”

  Han sat back. “You mean, that old creep was coming on to you?”

  She shivered. “I’m afraid so. He wanted to know how old I was, whether I was ever married, whether I had any children. He asked me why I’d wound up coming to Ylesia to be a pilgrim. Very personal questions! He had a lot of nerve.”

  Han leaned forward. “So why did you come here? Or do you consider that too personal to tell me, too?”

  She smiled wanly at him. “Of course not, Vykk. Why’d I come here? It seems so long ago, it’s hard to even remember. I was going through a bad time. I’d just finished kid’s school, and was kind of scared at the idea of going to the university. I’d never been on my own before.

  “My mother always kept a tight rein and made me feel as though I could never do anything right. Studying hard and behaving myself weren’t enough for her.” She smiled, but it was not a nice smile. “My father encouraged me to have a career, but all Mother could think about was my making a ‘brilliant match.’ She thought her dreams had come true when I started seeing Dael.”

  Han felt a stab of jealousy, but reminded himself that there had been other girls in his past. More than a few, matter of fact …

  “We were on the verge of getting engaged when I caugh
t him sneaking around with another girl. So I told him it was over. My mother was furious with me for breaking up with Dael. He came from one of the richest families on Corellia, and she’d already begun planning the wedding.” She sighed. “She ordered me to go to him and apologize, get him to take me back. For the first time in my life, I told her ‘no.’ ”

  “She sounds like a very … determined … woman,” Han said cautiously.

  “Determined isn’t the word. Mother had pushed me at Dael ever since we were in school together, and I didn’t have the courage to tell her that I didn’t like him that much. It’s funny”—her blue-green eyes grew misty—“I didn’t much want Dael, but when I knew he’d been sneaking around with someone else, I felt betrayed and heartbroken. People are strange, aren’t they?”

  Han nodded. “Go on,” he said encouragingly.

  “Well, just about that time, I heard about a revival that was being held by a Ylesian missionary. I was feeling pretty down on myself, because I just knew I couldn’t do anything right. Uprooted, you know? Cut off from everyone.

  “So I went to the revival. The Ylesian priest finished his service with just a few seconds of Exultation—and it made me feel so good. Like I belonged with those people. So I sold my jewelry, ran away, and caught the next ship for Ylesia.”

  She smiled wistfully. “So that’s my story. And to return to the subject at hand, what do you think I should do to keep poor old Ganar Tos at arm’s length?”

  “Well, if he bugs you too much, mention it to Teroenza. I’m sure he doesn’t want anything to interfere with your work, and if Ganar Tos is doing that, then he’ll put a stop to it.”

  “Okay,” she said, cheering up. “That’s a good idea.”

  “Are you going to devotions?” Han asked, giving her a significant glance.

  She shook her head. “No. I don’t want to.”

  “Won’t they notice when you don’t go?”

  “I can always say I had a headache or was working late. Most of the pilgrims can’t wait to go, so they don’t keep tabs on who’s there.”