THE HUTT GAMBI(118)

What was surprising was that there wasn’t a mark on the body. When Han hadn’t heard a blaster, he’d assumed the visitor had used a vibroblade.

An expert assassin could use one to kill with little blood, and no struggle.

But Greelanx didn’t have a mark on him …

Han stood there, looking down at the admiral’s dead features, which were frozen in a look of utter terror. He shivered. Who was that guy?

Han walked over to the wall, took a cursory glance at the lockup, but it was as he’d expected—a good unit, retinally activated. And even if he were to dig Greelanx’s eyeball out of its socket—a grisly task, all right—the admiral had already been dead too long. The retinal patterns wouldn’t work right.

I’m gettin’ outta here … Han decided. He walked back, stepped over Greelanx’s outflung hand, and then stopped when something his toe had kicked rolled across the carpet.

Han stooped, grabbed it exultantly. A Krayt dragon pearl! Small, but it seemed, to the naked eye, flawless. Opalescent black. A valuable color.

Sealing the jewel in an inside pocket, Han hurried out.

Ten minutes later he’d finished making his preparations for his escape.

He stood by the hatch on the lifepod deck, hastily finishing a rewiring job on the pod-ejection controls. Then he pressed a button, and the lifepod hatch hissed open softly.

He froze as he heard a step, then a familiar voice. “Stop right there, Han. Turn around … slowly.”

Han did so, and found, as he’d expected from the voice, his old friend Tedris Bjalin.

The man stood there, holding a blaster aimed at Han. “What are you doing here? I saw you in the corridor, saw you go into the admiral’s office. Why were you talking to the admiral? What’s going on?”

They’re going to think I murdered Greelanx, Han realized. They’ll shoot me first and ask questions later!

“Hey, Tedris, take it easy,” he said, smiling crookedly. He took a slow, careful step forward. “You know you couldn’t shoot your old pal.”

“Stop it right there, Solo,” Bjalin said, but his hand wasn’t quite steady on the blaster’s grip. They had, after all, been close friends.

“What are you doing wearing that uniform? Who are you—”

“Hey, pal, you got questions, let’s go somewhere and talk about this,” Han said. “I can answer every—” Breaking off in midword, Han flung himself at Tedris, using a very dirty Corellian street-fighting trick.

Bjalin went down, then lay on the deck, wheezing for breath, his eyes accusing. Han stooped down, appropriated his old friend’s blaster.

He went down on one knee beside his friend. “Listen to me, Tedris,” he said softly. “You’re not gonna die, though you won’t be real comfy for a while.

I want you to know something. I didn’t do it. Okay? Just remember that, later on. And you know something, Tedris? You’re too nice a guy to stay in this lousy, massacre-happy Imperial Navy. Take my advice and get out while you can.”

With that, Han stunned Tedris, then stepped over his friend’s unconscious form. Hastily he dragged Bjalin into one of the other lifepods, making sure the hatch wasn’t fastened, so there was no way he could accidentally be ejected.

Then he ducked through the hatch of the lifepod he’d rewired. Moments later he was ejected into space. He’d rigged the lifepod so it would look like an accidental ejection. Not surprising, under the circumstances. After all, the Destiny had just been through a battle .

. .

He worried for a while that the Imps might retrieve his pod, but they did not. Han figured that Greelanx’s murder was occupying everyone’s attention.

Chewie picked him up an hour later, as he drifted, still puzzling over what had happened to Greelanx.

The Wookiee scooped Han’s stolen lifepod into the Bria’s cargo bay, whining and growling that they had to get out of here, fast, there were recon TIE fighters prowling around.

Han agreed. Hastily he and Chewie headed for the bridge. They were halfway there when they heard the WHUMP! Seconds later another followed, this one so strong it knocked both of them to the deck.

“Chewie, we’re under fire!” Han yelled. “Get to the gun mount!” Han hastily slipped into the pilot’s seat, saw two recon TIEs circling back for a second pass—and then he saw the blinking red light on his control board.

“Chewie! Reactor overload! They hit us right in that weak shield!

We’ve gotta abandon ship!”

Leaping up, he ran to the gun turret, then grabbed the Wookiee and began dragging him out. Chewbacca shook his head, arguing, but Han screamed, “Run, you big oaf! This ship is gonna blow!”