“Okay,” she whispered.
Muuurgh was some distance away, examining a collection of jeweled daggers. Bria hesitated, her expression anguished. Han put his hands on her shoulders. “What is it, honey?”
“Vykk … I’ve never done anything like this before!” She bit her lip and gestured at the blasters Muuurgh had brought. “Guns, and stealing! People could get hurt—even killed! You could get killed, or me!” She was shivering all over.
Han put his arms around her, pulled her to him. “Bria, we have to go tonight,” he said, though it was an effort to keep his voice gentle and hide his impatience. “Tomorrow they’re shipping Mrrov to the mines of Kessel. The ship’s probably going to arrive in orbit anytime now to take her away! It’s now or never, sweetheart.”
“And … and …” She was clinging to the front of his coverall with both hands. “I’m afraid of what will happen to me when I leave here. Without the Exultation … how can I live without it?”
“You’ll have me,” he reminded her. “We’ll be together. I’ll be with you … every minute. You’ll be okay …”
She gulped and nodded, but two tears ran down her cheeks. Han gave her an encouraging grin. “Hey …” he said. “I’m better than Ganar Tos, right?”
Bria managed a choked laugh, and then gave him a watery smile.
Han grabbed the blasters and headed out the door, making sure it was closed behind him, then down the corridor.
Carrying six guns in one’s arms, he discovered, wasn’t easy. He finally wound up shoving them into the front of his coverall and into his belt. They impeded his motion somewhat, but that was better than juggling them in his arms and fearing that one or more would fall to the floor with a crash.
The night was as dark as ever, but Han knew that dawn couldn’t be more than an hour away now. He managed an awkward lope down the muddy path, blasters whacking into his legs and bouncing against his chest.
It took him nearly seven minutes to reach the first glitterstim factory, and another two to creep up close enough to the guard, a huge Gamorrean, to stun the alien at close range. Seeing the creature’s huge, porcine bulk, Han gave him an extra shot to keep him quiet for as long as this was going to take him.
Then he turned and walked into the factory, straight to the turbolift, the extra blasters nearly tripping him as he squeezed through the mesh door. Setting the turbolift for the bottom floor, he endured the ride down, down, into the night-black chill and the darkness beyond darkness.
When Han reached the bottom level, the one where Bria had worked, he turned right to where he’d caught a glimpse of the containers of raw glitterstim waiting to be apportioned to the workers.
Yanking the five blasters out of his belt (he kept the sixth as a spare, since he hadn’t known to make sure his own was fully charged for tonight’s escapade) Han arranged them atop the glitterstim in a tasteful “rayed sun” design. Then he quickly opened each one up and, peering through his goggles, set the powerful weapon to OVERLOAD. A thin whining filled the air, growing louder, echoing in the cavernous space, as more and more whines joined the first in the dank depths of the factory.
“That oughta do it,” Han whispered to himself, and knowing he had only minutes to get free before the whole place went boom, he bolted for the turbolift.
The rush of wind across his sweating face felt good. Han leaped out, ran down the first floor of the factory, leaped over the recumbent Gamorrean, who was just beginning to snort and stir, and ran off, into the night.
He was halfway back to the Administration Center when Han felt the ground shake and turned to see a gout of yellow flame reaching into the night. Moments later the blue sparks of glitterstim fizzed up like fireworks, sending sparkling streamers high into the air.
Han could barely guess how many credits he was watching go up in smoke. It was a sobering sight.
Ahead of him, he heard a commotion from the Administration Center, and moments later he had to jump off the path and continue through the jungle as a gaggle of yelling guards nearly ran him over.
Slipping in the muck of the forest floor, Han managed to keep to a good pace as he ran the rest of the way. His boots left muddy footprints on the steps of the Administration Center as he pounded up them, then down the corridors toward Teroenza’s treasure room.
There were guards all over now, shouting and yelling questions, but none stopped or questioned Han. He made it to the door of the collection room, looked both ways, and then slipped inside.
Bria and Muuurgh looked up, saw him, then relaxed visibly. “How’s it going?” Han whispered.
“Okay,” Bria replied softly. “We’ve almost finished the A list.”
“Great.”
“What did Vykk do?” Muuurgh asked.
“Vykk blew up the glitterstim factory,” Han said with satisfaction. “A whole bunch of pilgrims are now out of a job.”
“Oh, Vykk! If we get caught—” Bria’s face was chalky.
“We won’t,” Han said. “I’ve got everything under control.”
He reached for a hand-sized sculpture of a torsk from Alzoc III, carved from lapis, and when it proved heavier than he’d realized, yanked hard to pull it toward him.
The sculpture tilted up, to reveal a snarl of wires and transponders. Somewhere, next door, in Teroenza’s personal apartments, an alarm began to buzz stridently.
Han stared at the sculpture, then at his fellow thieves. “Uh-oh …”
Bria stared at Han, terrified and furious. “Oh, great! Now what are we going to do?”
Han thought quickly. “We’re getting out of here. The A list is good enough. Bria, you take the knapsack, okay? And here, take this.” Pulling the spare blaster out of his belt, he handed it to her, showed her how to aim it, and where the trigger was. “We may have to fight our way outta here.”
“Wonderful,” she said bitterly. “Under control, right, Vykk? Nothing to worry about!”
Han could only shrug helplessly. This time, it definitely was his fault.
“Which way?” Muuurgh, the practical one, wanted to know. “Through priest’s door or main door?”
Han considered for a second, but was saved from having to make a decision—both doors simultaneously burst open.
Teroenza stood framed in the door to his apartments, snorting with rage. Zavval and a squad of guards filled the big double doors.
Han grabbed Bria and dived behind the huge white jade fountain, while Muuurgh took refuge behind the room’s central support pillar. “Get them!” shrilled Zavval, moving forward on his repulsorlift sled. Teroenza charged like a mad beast, head down, horn ready.
Han snapped off a shot, saw the blue stun bolt, and cursed as he thumbed the weapon’s intensity up to FULL. The stun beam didn’t even slow Teroenza down. Muuurgh aimed, fired, and brought down a Sullustan guard.
Han squeezed the trigger again, but the blaster bolt ricocheted off Zavval’s sled and struck the support pillar nearest the door, burning it half-through. The pillar sagged, but held.
As Teroenza headed for Muuurgh, the big Togorian leaped out and grabbed the High Priest, clutching him around the neck and by his horn. Digging his heels into the carpet, Muuurgh braced himself against the High Priest’s forward motion. The t’landa Til’s momentum caused him to “crack the whip” and his massive hindquarters swung around and slammed into the middle pillar with a huge thump!
The floor quivered, and dust sifted downward from the ceiling. Teroenza’s rear feet skidded, and the High Priest went down. The ground shook again.
Han aimed and snapped off a shot, and a Gamorrean screamed and fell back into the hallway. Bria edged around the fountain, blaster ready, but before she could fire, one of the guards did. She screamed and ducked as a blaster bolt blew out a chunk of the fountain, sending jade fragments flying into the air. Teroenza, struggling back to his feet, let out an anguished howl of protest.
Another blaster bolt sizzled past Han, so close that the Corellian felt it singe his h
air. He dropped to the floor, rolled, and snapped off two more shots at the underside of Zavval’s sled. As he’d intended, the blaster bolts hit the housing for the repulsorlift unit. But, instead of sinking to the floor, the sled’s speed and directional controls went wild.
With Zavval vainly trying to control it, the big sled hurtled forward at top speed. Seconds later it slammed into the far wall and bounced off. Mowing down everything in its path, the sled caromed around the collections room, with Zavval a helpless passenger.
A Rodian guard who was concentrating on trying to shoot Han didn’t see it coming and was struck down in a spray of blood. The sled hurtled through a display case, and Teroenza screamed as he saw his precious collection of antique vases reduced to powder.
The Hutt crashed into the opposite wall, and the entire room shook. Dust and debris rained from the ceiling. Han and Bria threw themselves flat as the hurtling sled whanged into one of the jade nymphs and shattered her.
Zavval was yelling, and most of the guards by now had wisely made a quick exit.
Then the sled, with Zavval’s massive weight atop it, plowed directly into the room’s central pillar. The support column buckled and groaned, then bent in two and snapped off—and then the one Han had partially vaporized followed suit.
With a last, agonized groan, the repulsorlift sled settled to the floor and died.
Han stared in frozen horror as, seemingly in slow motion, half of the ceiling rumbled, bulged, cracked, then broke into huge chunks and plummeted down. He recovered himself just in time to grab Bria and yank her out of the way as a huge chunk of stone flooring hurtled at them from the upper level. Throwing her to the floor beneath the bowl of the stone fountain, Han fell on top of her, shielding her.
Zavval screamed shrilly as massive chunks rained down on him, pinning him to the shattered remains of his sled. Dust rose in a choking cloud. Coughing and gagging, Han crawled off Bria as soon as he was sure the ceiling fall had ceased. He stared at the spot where Zavval had been, but all he could see of the buried Hutt overlord was his spasmodically jerking tail.
Teroenza had thrown himself flat beneath the protection of a massive antique table and remained relatively unscathed. When the debris stopped falling, he crawled out from under the dust and rubble of his now-cracked table. Staggering toward Han, Bria, and Muuurgh—the Togorian was sheltering in the doorway to the priest’s apartment—Teroenza howled, slavering with rage. Obviously still intent on revenge, the t’landa Til lowered his head, horn pointed, and charged.
Han aimed and fired a bolt into his right flank, sending him crashing to the floor with a scream. The sickening smell of burned meat filled the air. A blaster bolt from one of the guards struck the fountain again, and tiny shards of sizzling stone whipped by Han’s face. One buried itself in his neck, and when he yanked it free, his fingers came away slick with blood.
Han sighted along the barrel of his blaster, fired, and the last guard went down in a heap.
“Come on!” he yelled, grabbing Bria and the knapsack and gesturing to Muuurgh. “We’re gettin’ outta here!”
Slipping in the rubble and stumbling over bodies, the three thieves headed for the double doors. When they reached them, Han motioned his comrades back and cautiously slid his head around the edge of the door, only to be rewarded by a blaster bolt that nearly took his ear off.
“Muuurgh, take Bria out the other way!” he ordered. “Go through Teroenza’s door, and we’ll catch them in a cross fire. On the count of fifty!”
The Togorian nodded, and he and Bria slithered and slipped back through the ruins of the treasure room, past the moaning Teroenza, through the door of the priest’s apartment.
Silently, Han counted. At fifteen, he stuck his hand around the edge of the door and snapped off four quick shots, and was rewarded with a howl of agony.
One more down …
He waited, breathing hard, trying not to cough on the dust that still filled the air.
Forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven, forty-eight, forty-nine … fifty!
Han dived out the door, hit the corridor rolling, and fired. Red blaster bolts zinged past his legs and where his head would be, but he got another guard, a Whiphid. As they’d planned, Bria and Muuurgh were firing from behind the guards, and two more fell.
The remaining two guards, a Devaronian and a Gamorrean, took to their heels and pounded away from Muuurgh and Bria, leaping over Han’s still-recumbent body as they did so.
Han got shakily to his feet, just in time to hear Muuurgh let out a huge battle roar and grapple with—who? Han couldn’t see anyone!
Has he gone crazy? Han wondered, but then he glimpsed a reddish-orange eye, a mouth full of teeth, and heard a loud hiss. He saw a blaster wave, seemingly in midair, then suddenly he could make out the pale-skinned, warty, scaled being. A skin-changer!
Muuurgh growled and snarled as he savagely attacked the Aar’aa. The Togorian was so much taller than his opponent that Muuurgh was bent over nearly double. Han winced as the Togorian fell to his knees, grasping his foe. The reptilian creature was the exact color of the neutral walls and flooring in the dimly lit corridor. With a motion like a striking gral-viper, the Togorian buried his fangs in the being’s throat and ripped. Reddish-orange blood spurted into the air.
Muuurgh jumped back, and Han watched, fascinated, as the Aar’aa sagged, then fell, with ponderous slowness, to the floor. As the being lay there, it slowly reverted from its pale color to its own natural skin tone, a grayish-tan. Han didn’t have to look twice to know that it was dead.
Bria was staring in horror at the spot where the dead Aar’aa lay. “He almost had me,” she whispered. “If it hadn’t been for Muuurgh …”
“How’d you see him, pal?” Han said, holstering his blaster. “I couldn’t see a thing!”
“I did not see him, I smelled him,” Muuurgh said matter-of-factly. “Togorians hunt by sight and smell. Muuurgh is a hunter, remember?”
“Thanks, pal,” Han said, and put an arm around Bria. “I owe you one. Now we’d better—”
“Look out!” Bria yelled, and Han instinctively ducked. Bria’s blaster went off in stun mode just over his head, making his ears ring. He straightened up in time to see Ganar Tos slowly crumpling to the floor as a blaster slipped from his green fingers.
Han walked over to the old majordomo and, picking up the blaster, slipped it into his belt. Bria came to stand beside him. “All I can think is that if you hadn’t come back today, tonight I’d have been his wife,” she murmured, and shuddered so deeply that Han hugged her reassuringly.
“I’m glad you only stunned him,” Han said. “He may have been a lecherous old creep, but how can I blame him for being attracted to you?” He smiled at her, his eyes very intent.
She glanced down, and her color rose. “I didn’t want to marry him, but I’m glad he’s not dead.”
“Well,” Han said, “I owe you one, honey.”
“No, you don’t,” she said. “We’re even. If it hadn’t been for you, I’d be buried under that ceiling back there, like that Hutt.”
“Yeah, I’m afraid old Zavval’s no longer with us,” Han said. “And I suppose the Hutts will blame me for it.”
For a moment Han remembered Teroenza, who was still alive, only wounded. Should he go back and finish off the t’landa Til? The thought of walking up to a helpless sentient and coldly shooting the creature in cold blood didn’t appeal to him.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said, beckoning to Muuurgh, who was licking Aar’aa blood off his paws with fastidious distaste. “C’mon, Muuurgh, you can finish grooming your whiskers later. Don’t forget—Mrrov is waiting.”
As they jogged out of the Administration Center, they could see the glitterstim factory still shooting up blue sparks into the air—but the sky was no longer black, but lighter, almost blue.
“Dawn’s not far off!” Han said. “C’mon!”
The three broke into a run down the jungle path. When they neared the
end, Han motioned them to stay back as he cautiously scanned the landing field. He saw no guards … apparently all of them were still fighting the fire or in the Administration Center.
Still, they went cautiously, blasters ready, every sense alert for movement or sound.
When Han reached the Talisman, he quickly coded Bria’s access code into the lock, then the three went up the ramp.
The Talisman was a little larger than the Ylesian Dream, teardrop-shaped, bulging along its keel. But instead of cargo space, most of its interior was given over to lavish passenger quarters and amenities. It was proportioned and laid out for the t’landa Til, so only the pilot’s cabin contained human-style seats. There was one small, human-sized bunk in a guard’s cabin, but the rest of the passenger cabins were outfitted with the sleeping “hammocks” the t’landa Til favored.
Once inside, Han motioned Bria to the copilot’s seat and instructed Muuurgh to strap himself into one of the passenger berths.
He’d never flown this particular ship during his time here—Teroenza had been too worried by the pirate attacks to risk traveling before the weapons and shield upgrades had been completed.
Quickly Han familiarized himself with the controls. The Talisman didn’t have as much weaponry or shielding as the Dream, but for a private yacht, it was now heavily armed and well shielded.
“Preflight checks completed, we’re good to go. Strap in, folks … we are outta here!” Han cried, and raised ship. The Talisman responded well to his touch and seemed a willing—though rather slow—craft.
“Now for Mrrov,” Muuurgh called excitedly. “Right, Vykk?”
“Right, pal,” Han said. “We should be there just at sunrise. Where are they assembling the pilgrims destined for the Kessel ship?”
“The Altar of Promises,” Muuurgh replied.
“The Altar of Broken Promises,” Bria amended, a bitter tone in her voice. “I wonder whether Teroenza will survive?”
Star Wars: The Han Solo Trilogy I: The Paradise Snare Page 21
