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[Han Solo] - 03(27)

By:A C Crispin


[I had proposals, you know,] Mallatobuck said. [People told me I was foolish for waiting so long. They said you were dead, that you would never return to Kashyyyk. But I knew, somehow … I knew that was not so. I waited, and now my joy fills the world.] Tenderly, Chewbacca licked blood and tissue off her face, washing her, as she returned the favor. Her fur was silky on his tongue.

[Malla … you know about the life debt I have pledged to Han Solo?] Chewie asked, as, sated, they sat back, arms around each other.

Malla’s voice quivered just a tiny bit. [I know. I cherish your honor as my own, my husband-to-be. But let us be married quickly, so we may have as much time together as possible before you and Captain Solo must depart.] [Nothing would please me more,] Chewie said. [How quickly can you be ready? How long will it take to prepare your wedding veil?] She chuckled, a rich, throaty sound in the darkness. [It has been ready for fifty years, Chewbacca. Ready and waiting.] Chewbacca’s heart was full of love and pride. [Tomorrow, then, Malla.] [Tomorrow, Chewbacca ….”

Teroenza, High Priest of Ylesia, lounged back in his resting sling, watching Kibbick, Ylesia’s figurehead Hutt overlord, trying to go over last month’s accounts and make sense of them. The huge, four-legged t’landa Til groaned inwardly. He’d long since ceased to be amused by Kibbick’s troubles comprehending even the most rudimentary record-keeping. Kibbick was an idiot, and it was Teroenza’s unfortunate task to bring him up to speed on the running of Ylesia.

As though Besadii doesn’t realize that if Kibbick actually managed to master the skills necessary to keep the spice factories running smoothly, I would be out of a job, the High Priest thought disgustedly.

But the chances of that are vanishingly small….

When Teroenza, with the help of the Desilijic leader, Jiliac, had plotted Aruk the Hutt’s murder, he’d hoped that the aging Hutt Lord’s only offspring, Durga, would never be declared the head of Besadii clan. After all, Durga had that hideous birthmark, and that should, by rights, have disqualified him from any leadership position.

But Durga had proven stronger and more able than Teroenza had realized.

He’d managed (some said with the help of Black Sun) to eliminate his most vocal detractors in a most summary fashion. There was still talk against him, but it was more of a cautious murmur these days than a protesting shout.

Teroenza had pinned his hopes on Zier the Hutt, hoping that the senior Besadii member would be strong enough and clever enough to outwit Durga and take over both the Besadii clan, and the kajidic, its criminal arm, that was part of it.

But no. Durga had emerged (at least for the moment) with a shaky victory, and had promptly announced that Teroenza must adhere to all of Aruk’s directives.

Including teaching Kibbick, Durga’s idiot cousin, how to manage a top-level credit-making enterprise.

Here on Ylesia, religious “Pilgrims” were recruited by t’landa Til missionaries during traveling revival shows. Anyone unfortunate enough to fall prey to the addictive Exultation would follow the Ylesian missionaries to the steaming jungle planet. There the malnourished, brainwashed and addicted Pilgrims became willing slaves in the Ylesian spice factories, toiling from sunup to sundown for their Ylesian masters.

Teroenza’s people were distant cousins of the Hutts, though they were far smaller and more mobile. With their huge bodies balanced on trunklike legs, the t’landa Til had a broad face that rather resembled a Hutt’s countenance, but with the addition of a single long horn just above their nostrils. A long, whip-like tail was carried curled over their backs.

Their arms and hands were tiny and weak compared to the rest of them.

The most interesting feature of the t’landa Til males, however, was not physical. They possessed the ability to project empathic “feelgood” emotions at most humans. These empathic projections, coupled with a soothing vibration produced in the males’ throat sacs, was like a jolt of a powerful drug to the Pilgrims. They quickly became addicted to their daily “fix” and believed that the Priests were divinely gifted.

Nothing was further from the truth, however. The t’landa Til’s ability was simply an adaptation of a male mating display, evolutionarily developed to attract t’landa Til females.

“Teroenza,” Kibbick said fretfully, “I don’t understand this. It says that we spent thousands of credits for a fertility-inhibitor that’s placed in the slaves’ gruel. Why can’t we eliminate most of that?

Can’t we just let them breed? It would save credits, wouldn’t it?”

Teroenza rolled his bulbous eyes, but Kibbick fortunately wasn’t looking.