[Han Solo] - 03(78)

Minutes later, he managed to sit up, holding his head and wondering what in the galaxy had induced him to throw that party last night. One in a long series of parties ….

He had a dim recollection that it had been fun—lots of fun. Groggily he fumbled for his backpack and found a commercial headache remedy, swallowed it dry. He settled back onto the bed and held still for several minutes, eyes closed, until it began to take effect and the headache eased off.

Opening his eyes fully, he looked around the dimly lit room, seeing clear evidence in the scattered food, bottles and other disorder that it had indeed been a wild party. What was that girl’s name? He couldn’t remember.

But they’d obviously had a very good time.

Han had been living high for weeks now, off the credits he’d gotten from the Authority Espo ship’s purser. Dimly, he realized that his stash of credits was considerably less than it had been several weeks ago, when he’d said goodbye to Fiolla.

He thought about her, wishing she was still with him. But when he’d prepared to leave Corporate Sector space, she’d booked passage home, saying that she had to get back to work to the promotion she was sure she’d merit, for tracing down that slaver ring.

Since then, Han and Chewie had made planetfall on at least five different worlds. Han looked blearily at the sunlight that showed beneath the curtain in the hotel room. It had a slight orange tint against the white drape. What world is this, anyhow?

For the life of him, he couldn’t remember.

Rising, he headed for the fresher. His headache was under control now, and he was beginning to feel hungry. Stepping into the shower, he let the hot water pummel him and leaned against the tiled wall.

Ahhhhhhh …

For a moment he found himself thinking about home, wondering how everyone was doing. Maybe it was time to head back to Nar Shaddaa, while he still had some credits left?

Thoughts of his friends filled his mind. Jarik, Mako … and Lando, of course. How was Lando doing these days? Had he ever found a ship to replace the Falcon?

And what about Bria?

Han sighed. Maybe, when he got back to Imperial space, he’d try looking up Bria.

Yeah, right, he thought. That should be real easy. Just find the secret HQ of the Corellian Resistance and walk right in, demand to see your old girlfriend … probably get a blaster bolt right between your eyes, Solo ….

Feeling slightly better, Han shut the water off, and went to get dressed.

He decided to get some food, then head back for the Falcon and Chewie.

Time to leave this blasted world … whatever world this was ….





9


Offers and Refusals


Jabba lounged beside his aunt in her private audience chamber on Nal Hutta, watching and listening as Bria Tharen made her appeal to Desilijic.

The woman spoke well, he had to admit … for a human.

“Almighty Jiliac,” Bria spread her hands before her, “just think what an opportunity this is for your clan. If Desilijic will just finance our group in terms of ammunition and fuel, the Corellian Resistance will make sure that Ylesia is no longer a thorn in your side. Wouldn’t it be worth it, to see Besadii brought low? And for such a modest outlay! We provide the troops, the weapons, the ships ” “But you will take the spice stored in the warehouses,” Jiliac said, in Huttese.

Jabba and Jiliac’s protocol droid, K8LR, promptly translated the Hutt leader’s words. Jiliac’s repulsor sled bobbed slightly as she shifted her weight forward to regard the Rebel commander intently. “All we would gain could only be measured in negative terms. Now if we were to profit from this …” Bria Tharen shook her head. “If we take the risks, we get the spice, Your Excellency. Running a resistance is expensive. We can’t just wipe out your enemies for you and gain nothing for ourselves.”

Privately Jabba agreed with her. Why was Jiliac being so stubborn?

Jabba spoke up for the first time—in Basic, which he could speak, but rarely chose to. “Let me make sure I understand what you are offering, and what you wish from us, Commander.” Bria turned to him, bowed slightly.

“Certainly, Your Excellency.”

“One,” Jabba began ticking points off on his fingers. “Desilijic will provide you funding to purchase ammunition and fuel for an assault on Ylesia. Two, Desilijic will arrange to eliminate the t’landa Til priests before the attack … correct?”

“Yes, Your Excellency,” Bria said.

“Why do you need us for that?” Jiliac demanded haughtily. “If your group is such an efficient military force, then you should be able to handle a few puny t’landa Til.”

“Because we stand a much better chance of being able to control the Pilgrims if the Priests are already dead,” Bria Tharen replied. “It shouldn’t be too difficult for a kajidic of your resources to arrange.