[Han Solo] - 03(102)

It felt real good ….

Durga faced Prince Xizor’s image on his comm unit. “Guri has explained your difficulty,” the prince said. “I will dispatch two companies of mercenaries under the capable command of Willum Kamaran to Ylesia.

Commander Kamaran’s Nova Force will help you keep Teroenza in line until he can be dealt with. Which should be speedily, my friend.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Durga said. “As Guri may have told you, I will share the profits from Ylesia with you this year, to recompense you for your help. Fifteen percent.”

The Falleen prince’s mouth curved down, and he shook his head sadly.

“Durga, Durga … I thought you had some respect for me. Thirty percent for the next two years.”

Durga batted his bulbous eyes in disbelief. Worse than I ever imagined! He drew himself up. “Your Highness, if I granted you that, I would be deposed as leader of Besadii.”

“But if you do not have my troops in place, and soon, you will lose Ylesia altogether,” the prince pointed out, truthfully.

“Twenty percent, one year,” Durga said, feeling actual pain as he spoke the words. “They will not have to be there long, remember.”

“Thirty percent, two years,” the head of Black Sun said. “I do not negotiate.”

Durga drew a deep breath, feeling the ghosts of bruises and injuries from his battle with Jiliac awaken. “Very well,” he said, sullenly.

Xizor smiled pleasantly. “Fine. The mercenaries will embark as soon as possible for Ylesia. It is a pleasure doing business with you, my friend.”

It took every bit of willpower Durga could summon to say, “Very well, Your Highness. Thank you.”

He cut the connection and slumped in despair, imagining what Aruk would say to all of this. I’m trapped, he thought. trapped. All I can do is try to make the best of it….

Han did not sleep well that night. Thoughts of Bria and her proposition raced through his mind like an asteroid on a collision course. I can’t trust her.., can I? I don’t want to see her.., do I?

He dozed, and dreamed of mounds of glitterstim, which mutated without warning into piles of credits. He leaped into those piles, rolled around in them, shouting joyfully, and suddenly Bria was there with him, and he was holding her, rolling over with her, kissing her in the midst of piles and piles and piles of credits … more wealth than he’d ever imagined ….

He jerked awake with a gasp, and then lay there, his arms behind his head, staring into the darkness.

Maybe I ought to do it, he thought. This might be my big chance to make that big stake. I could get out … make a bundle, and retire.

Find myself a nice little place in the Corporate Sector and just let the Empire go to blazes all by itself….

He lay there, tossing and turning, punching his pillows in frustration, until he could stand it no longer. Swinging out of bed, he headed into the ‘fresher, then dragged on clean clothes. He also combed his hair, reflecting ruefully that the haircut had gone beyond the realm of “should get one” to “want to be mistaken for Chewie’s cousin?”

Then, carrying his boots, he tiptoed out through the dark, silent apartment, not wanting to wake Chewie, or Jarik, who was sleeping on the couch. He was almost at the door when he stubbed his toe on something unyielding and heard a plaintive electronic bleat.

ZeeZee! Han dropped his boots, swore aloud, then snarled at the antiquated droid, who was babbling apologies in its twittering, querulous voice.

“Shut up!” Han snarled, and slammed out the door. He was back a second later to collect his boots, and then gone again. The Smuggler’s Rest was on the border of the Corellian section. Han arrived there before the place was even open, and had to buzz for the night-clerk. It suddenly occurred to him that he didn’t know what name Bria had registered under, but he’d barely begun to describe her, when the bored clerk brightened. “Oh her,” he said, licking his lips. “She expecting you, buddy?”

“Let’s just say she’ll be glad to see me,” Han said, sliding a credit piece across the counter.

“Okay, sure. Room 7A.”

Han went up in the ancient turbolift, and then walked down the dark, noisome hallway. He tapped on the door. Moments later, he heard her voice, sounding wide-awake. “Who’s there?”

“It’s me, Bria. Han,” he said.

There was a long pause, then the locks clicked and the door swung open into the darkness. “Come in with your hands up,” Bria’s voice said.

Han walked in as directed, and only when the door was closed behind him did the lights come on. He turned to find Bria wearing a nightshirt that was too short for her, her blaster in her hand. “What do you want?” Her voice was anything but friendly.