Part 30 (1/2)
”QUIET down and sit still.” Han took a firmer grip on his first mate's head.
The Wookiee, seated in a rump-sprung, sweat-stained acceleration chair in the Millennium Falcon's forward compartment, stopped squirming but couldn't stifle his whimpers. He knew his neck injury had to be tended right away. Han, standing behind him, shuffling for a better stance, held his friend's chin clamped in one elbow. He pushed the palm of his hand against the Wookiee's skull.
”How many times have I done this now? Stop complaining!” Han began to apply pressure again, twisting Chewbacca's head up and to the left. The Wookiee dutifully fought the urge to rise, crimping his long fingers on the arms of the acceleration chair.
Meeting resistance, Han drew a deep breath and, without warning, yanked the thick-maned skull with all his might. There was a cracking and popping; Chewbacca yipped and snuffled pitifully. But when Han ruffled his friend's fur compa.s.sionately and stepped back, the Wookiee rubbed his neck and moved his head without pain. He immediately went off to prepare the stars.h.i.+p for liftoff.
”If you're through ministering to the afflicted, Doctor,” Hasti said from her seat by the gameboard, ”it's time we got a few things settled.”
Leaning against the tech station, Han agreed. ”Let's put them on the table and see what we've got.”
Badure, fully recovered from the stun charge, was sitting next to Hasti. To avoid conflict, he took over. ”I met Hasti and her sister, Lanni, at a mining camp on a planet named Dellalt, here in the Tion Hegemony. It was a small plunder operation; I was contract labor there.”
He ignored Han's surprise. Things have been worse than I thought for him, the pilot realized.
”And things weren't too much better for them,” Badure went on. ”You know how those camps can be, and this one was about the worst I've seen. We three sort of watched out for one another.
”Lanni had a Pilot's Guild book and flew a lot of work runs, surface-to-surface stuff. Somewhere she had picked up a log-recorder, one of the ancient disk types. No s.h.i.+p has used one in centuries. She couldn't read the characters, of course, but there was a figure most beings in this part of s.p.a.ce know, the Queen of Ranroon.”
”How'd a log-recorder get to Dellalt?”
”That's where the vaults are,” Badure said, and that brought some history back to Han. Xim the Despot had left behind legends of whole planets despoiled, of ma.s.s s.p.a.cings of prisoners and other atrocities. And Xim the Despot had ordered that stupendous treasure vaults be built for the tribute to be sent him by his conquering armies. The treasure never arrived, and the vacant vaults, all that remained from Xim's reign, were a minor curiosity generally ignored by the big, busy galaxy.
”Are you telling me the Queen made it to Dellalt after all?”
Badure shook his head. ”But somebody made it there with the log-recorder disk.”
”The disk is in a lockbox in the public storage facility that set up operations in the old vaults,” Hasti told him. ”My sister was afraid it would be taken from her, for the mining company runs surprise inspections, barracks searches, and sensor frisks. So she diverted course on a freight run and made the deposit.”
”How'd she get it in the first place? And where is she now?” Han saw the sobering answer on both their faces and wasn't surprised. The opposition, he had already learned, was in deadly earnest. He abandoned the subject.
”So, off to Dellalt before that rental agent comes looking for his groundcoach.”
But Badure, slapping his ample belly, announced, ”We have one more crewman coming. He's on his way now. I canceled our public-carrier reservations so the line will refer him directly here.”
”Who? What do we need him for?” Han was reluctant to involve too many in this treasure hunt.
”His name is Skynx; he's a ranking expert on pre-Republic times in this part of s.p.a.ce. And he reads ancient languages; he's already deciphered some characters Lanni had copied from the log-recorder disk. Good enough for you?”
Conditionally. Somebody, Han saw, would have to decipher the disk to find out what had happened to the Queen. Removing his vest, Han began disenc.u.mbering himself of the shoulder holster. ”Next question: who's the opposition?”
”The mine operators. You know how the Tion works. Somebody pays someone in the Ministry of Industry and gets a permit. The mining outfit carves up the terrain any which way, grabs what it can, and gets out long before any inspectors or legal paperwork catch up with them. They usually get their financing from some crime boss.
”This outfit's run by twins. The woman's name is J'uoch and her brother's R'all. They have a partner, Egome Fa.s.s, their enforcer. He's a big, mean humanoid, a Houk, even taller than Chewie there. All three came up the hard way, and that's how they play.”
Han had buckled on his gunbelt and holster and transferred his blaster. ”So I saw. And all you want is for us to get you to Dellalt and get you off?”
Just then the intercom carried the Wookiee's news that someone was signaling for permission to board. ”That'll be Skynx,” Badure told him. Han pa.s.sed word to admit the academician.
”If you'll get us to the vaults and off Dellalt again,” Badure resumed, ”I'll pay you twice your usual first-asking price, out of the treasure. But if you throw in with us, you and the Wook can split a full share of the take.”
Hasti cried, ”Half-share!” just as Han protested, ”Full share each!” They glared at each other. ”Wound up a little too tight are we, sweetheart?” Han asked. ”How're you going to get there without us, flap your arms?” He heard Chewbacca's footsteps moving toward the main hatch.
Hasti's temper flared. ”For one hop, you and that furball want a full cut?”
Badure held up his hands and bellowed, ”Enough!” They quieted. ”That's nicer, kiddies. We are discussing major cash here, plenty for everybody. The breakdown's this way: a full share for me because I got Hasti off Dellalt alive and Lanni pa.s.sed what she knew along to both of us, equally. Two shares for Hasti, her own and poor Lanni's. And for you, Skynx, and the Wook, half-shares each at this point. Depending on who has to do what in the course of finding that treasure, we renegotiate. Agreed?”
Han studied Badure and the seething red-haired girl. ”How much are we talking about?” he wanted to know.
The old man inclined his head. ”Why not ask him?”
Badure indicated the individual who had come onboard and was following Chewbacca into the forward compartment. Now why did I a.s.sume he'd be human? Han wondered.
Skynx was a Ruurian, of average size-a little over a meter long-low to the ground, his natural coat a thick, woolly amber with bands of brown and red. He moved on eight pairs of short limbs with a graceful, rippling motion. Feathery, bobbing antennae curled back from his head. Skynx had big, multifaceted red eyes, a tiny mouth, and small nostrils. Behind him rolled a baggage-robo with several crates and boxes on its flatbed.
Skynx paused and reared up on his last four pairs of extremities. The digits on his limbs, four apiece, were mutually opposable, deft, and very versatile. He waved to the humans. ”Ah, Badure,” he called in a rapid, high-pitched voice, ”and the lovely Hasti; how are you, young lady? This fine Wookiee I've already met. So you would be our captain, sir?”
”Would be? I am. Han Solo.”
”Delighted! I am Skynx of Ruuria, Human History subdepartment, pre-Republic subdivision, whose chair I currently hold.”
”What do you use it for?” Han asked, eying Skynx's strange anatomy. Seeing no reason to delay where cash was concerned, he inquired, ”How much money are we after?”
Skynx poised his head in thought. ”There's so much conflicting information about the Queen of Ranroon, it's best to say this: Xim the Despot's treasure vessel was the largest s.h.i.+p ever built in her day. Your guess, sir, is no less plausible than my own.”
Han leaned back and thought about pleasure palaces, gambling planets, star yachts, and all the women of the galaxy who hadn't been fortunate enough to make his acquaintance. Yet. Chewbacca snorted and returned to the c.o.c.kpit.
”Count us in,” Han announced. ”Tell the baggage clunker to leave your stuff right there, Skynx. Badure, Hasti, make yourselves at home.”
Hasti and Skynx both wanted to watch the liftoff from the c.o.c.kpit. When they were alone, Badure spoke more confidentially. ”There's one thing I didn't want the others to hear, Han. I had my ear to the ground, heard about some of the crazy jobs you've pulled. Word's out that somebody's looking for you. Money's being spread around, but I haven't heard any names. Any idea who it might be?”
”Half the galaxy, it feels like sometimes.” There had been many runs, many deals, jobs, and foul-ups. ”How should I know?” But his expression hardened, and Badure thought Han had a very good idea who might be seeking him.
Han stood in the middle of the forward compartment, listening. The tech station and most of the other equipment in the compartment had been shut down to lower the noise level. He could feel the vibrations of the Millennium Falcon's engines. He heard a quiet sound behind him.
Han spun, crouching, in execution of the speedraw, firing from the hip. The target-remote, a small globe that moved on squirts of repulsor power and puffs of forced air, didn't quite dodge his beam. Its counterfire pa.s.sed over him. Deactivated by his harmless tracer beam, the orb hung immobile, awaiting another practice sequence.
Han looked over to where Bollux, the labor 'droid, sat; his chest panels were open. Blue Max, the computer module installed in the 'droid's chest cavity, had been controlling the remote. ”I told you I wanted a tougher workout than that thing's idiot circuitry could give me,” Han reprimanded Blue Max.
Bollux, a gleaming green, barrel-chested automaton, had arms long enough to suggest a simian. The computer, an outrageously expensive package built for maximum capacity, was painted a deep blue, whence came his name. Part of Han's post-Corporate Sector splurge had included the modification the two mechanicals had requested, because without them he and the Wookiee might never have survived. Bollux now contained a newer and more powerful receiver, and Max had been provided with a compact holo-projector.
”That was,” the little module objected. ”Can I help it if you're so flaming fast? I could cut response time to nil, if you want.”
Han sighed. ”No. And watch your language, Max; just because I talk like that doesn't mean you can.” He took the combat charge his weapon usually carried from its case at his belt.